Shelf. 


PRINCETON,    N.    J.  <S> 

Division ....  :tQ.  p. .  .^. .  Jj  ^ 
Niimber 


OUR     LORD'S 


GREAT     MIRACLES 


M]me  ^Risings  fvow  the  §tM, 


BY    THE 

REV,     HUGH^  MACMILLAN, 

LL.D.,    F.R.S.E., 

Al'THOR  OF  "BIBLE  TEACHINGS  IN  NATURE,"  "  THE   TRUE  VINE,"  "TWO  WORLDS 
ARH  OURS,"  ETC 


New  York  : 

N.     TIBBALS     &     SONS, 

124  Nassau  Street. 


PREFACE. 


'nr^HE  substance  of  the  following  chapters,  with 
■^  some  modifications  of  form,  so  as  to  make  the 
narratives  more  continuous,  was  given  in  a  series  of 
Sunday  afternoon  lectures  to  my  congregation  last 
spring.  Like  all  who  publish  what  has  been  pre- 
pared for  the  pulpit,  I  feel  tempted  to  make  apolo- 
gies for  them.  But  I  have  only  to  state  that  they 
are  plain,  popular  expositions  of  the  three  greatest 
miracles  of  our  Lord,  which  are  now  for  the  first 
time  —  so  far  as  I  am  aware  —  brought  together  and 
made  into  a  separate  book.  I  have  not  entered  into 
the  deeper  exegetical  or  scientific  questions  which 
these  miracles  involve,  and  around  which  so  much 
recent  controversy  has  gathered  ;  for  my  aim  has 
been  to  bring  out  as  simply  and  clearly  as  I  could 
the  important  truths  represented  in  them  — viewing 
them  in  the  interesting  light  of  acted  parables.  I 
have  made  use  of  all  the  critical  and  expository  helps 
bearing   upon   the  miracles   within  my   reach ;   but 


VI  PREFACE. 

desire  especially  to  acknowledge  my  obligations  fcr 
some  suggestions  to  the  writings  of  Archbishop 
Trench,  Davies,  Woodward,  Baldwin,  Brown,  Dr. 
Westcott,  and  Mrs.  Fry.  In  the  hope  that  what  I 
have  written,  upon  a  theme  so  old  and  well-worn, 
may  nevertheless  suggest  some  thoughts  of  comfort 
and  instruction  to  those  who  are  brought  by  sorrow 
and  bereavement  into  circumstances  to  need  them,  I 
have  ventured  to  give  these  lectures  greater  publicity 
than  they  have  already  enjoyed.  H.  M. 


Introduction 

PAGB 

ix 

CHAPTER  I. 

The  Raising  of  Jairus'  Daughter  . 

23 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Raisin-g  of  the  Widow's  Son 


91 


CHAPTER  III. 
The  Raising  of  Lazarus  . 


f45 


INTRODUCTION. 


**  I  ^HERE  are  two  reasons  why  a  refusal  to  believe 
in  the  miracles  of  the  Bible  is  more  general 
now  than  in  former  times.  The  first  is,  that  physi- 
cal science  has  placed  in  a  clearer  light  the  unvary- 
ing order  of  external  nature,  and  invested  the  idea 
of  law  with  a  grandeur  and  power  inconceivable  to 
our  ancestors.  And  the  second  is  the  greater  preva- 
lence in  these  days  of  the  gift  of  historical  imagina- 
tion ;  the  ability  to  realize  the  persons  and  events  of 
the  past  as  if  they  were  actually  living  and  present 
before  us.  As  supposed  violations  of  physical  law, 
many  trained  in  science  reject  the  miracles  as  simply 
impossible,  and  would  not  believe  them  upon  any 
evidence  whatever  ;  and  vivified  by  the  realism  of 
the  present  day,  and  tested  by  its  standards,  the  ac- 
counts that  are  given  of  them  are  said  by  certain 
critics  to  present  difficulties  altogether  unnoticed  in 
the  dim  religious  light  in  which  they  were  formerly 
regarded.     The   full   discussion   of   such  objections. 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

which    have   been    repeatedly   and    abundantly   an- 
swered   elsewhere,   would    occupy   too    much    space, 
and  is  besides  foreign  to  the  object  which  I  have  in 
view.     I  would  simply  remark,  in  regard  to  the  first 
objection,   that   the   so-called    laws    of   nature,   with 
whose  existence  miracles   are  held  to  be  utterly  in- 
compatible, are,  after  all,  only  relations  of  force  as 
they  appear  to    our   own   minds  ;  and  we  have  no 
warrant  for  assuming  that  the  subjective  boundaries 
of  our  thoughts  are  the  objective  boundaries  of  God's 
thoughts.     May  not  the  miracles  which  seem  con- 
trary to  some  few  laws  of  nature,  as  known  to  us,  be 
parts  of  some  great  fixed  order  of  causes  unknown 
to  us }     I  believe,  indeed,  that  they  are  all  referrible 
to  law  when  taken  into  the  higher  classification  of 
God  ;  that,  like  the  natural  exceptions  to  the  ordi- 
nary working  of  the  laws  of  nature,  of  which  there 
are  so   many  striking  examples,  they  come  under  a 
law  which  comprises  both  themselves  and  the  daily 
uniform    phenomena  around  us.     We   cannot  bring 
will  and  original  thought  into  any  such  sequence  of 
cause  and  effect  as  we  see  in  the  objects  of  nature 
around  us  ;  and  this  of  itself  indicates  that  there  can 
be   no  conclusive  antecedent   objection  of  a  meta- 
physical  kind  to   the  occurrence  of  miracles.     Be- 


INTRODUCTIOiY.  xi 

sides,  scientific  men  themselves  allow  that  there  have 
been  three  breaks  of  continuity  in  the  history  of  the 
universe — the  creation  of  matter,  the  production  of 
life,  and  the  formation  of  man.  No  forces  or  opera- 
tions such  as  we  see  before  us  can  account  for  these 
phenomena.  They  are  absolutely  unexplainable  upon 
any  theory  of  evolution.  They  may  therefore  fairly 
be  regarded  as  "  avenues  leading  up  into  the  unseen," 
and  as  laying  the  foundation  upon  which  all  the  acts 
of  interference  with  the  established  order  of  things 

—  all  the  breaks  of  continuity  recorded  in  Scripture 

—  may  be  based.  In  regard  to  the  second  objection, 
I  have  only  to  say  that  it  supplies  its  own  corrective. 
The  modern  habit  of  thought,  which  realizes  the 
difficulties  more  vividly,  can  realize  also  more  vividly 
the  favorable  evidences.  If  the  stereoscope  of  his- 
torical imagination,  applied  to  the  miracles,  and  rais- 
ing them  from  fiat  inanimate  pictures,  to  which  no 
sense  of  reality  was  attached,  into  clearly  outlined, 
living,  and  moving  incidents,  shows  to  the  higher 
criticism  of  the  day  small  and  imaginary  defects  — 
it  reveals  to  devout  and  unbiassed  minds  surpassing 
beauties,  which  remove  or  harmonize  these  defects, 
and  produce  the  irresistible  conviction  of  truth. 

Formerly  miracles  were  isolated  from  their  con- 


Xll  INTRODUCTION. 

nection  with  doctrines  in  the  Sacred  Text,  and  were 
regarded  as  the  master-proofs  of  the  Divine  origin 
and  authority  of  Revelation.  Separated  in  this  way, 
and  examined  upon  their  own  merits,  many  have 
looked  upon  them  with  suspicion  and  distrust.  They 
have  wished  to  precipitate  them  altogether  to  the 
bottom,  as  a  sediment  accidentally  collected  by  the 
breeze  of  circumstance  from  the  disintegration  of 
older  faiths  and  myths,  and  to  draw  off  from  them 
the  pure  simple  element  of  spiritual  truth.  But  such 
a  process  is  now  manifestly  impossible,  for  miracles 
are  no  longer  regarded  as  mere  evidences,  but  as  es- 
sential and  integral  parts  of  the  truth  itself.  Their 
evidential  value  is  only  part  of  their  significance. 
They  are  acted  parables  —  truths  dramatized  or  acted 
before  the  eye,  instead  of  spoken  to  the  ear.  They 
are  not  chance  flowers  that  have  found  their  way  into 
the  crevices  of  the  old  crumbling  wall  of  religion,  but 
the  living  stones  of  the  structure  itself ;  and  if  they 
are  removed,  the  whole  fabric  must  tumble  down  at 
the  first  shock.  By  this  method  of  regarding  them, 
the  miracles  have  gained  immensely  in  their  power 
of  convincing  us.  The  subtle  harmonies  which  they 
disclose  to  him  who  studies  them  attentively  ;  their 
profound  consistency  with  themselves,  with   the  sa- 


INTRODUCTION.  xiii 

cred  truth  which  they  ilhistrate,  with  the  primary 
needs,  sympathies,  and  aspirations  of  human  nature, 
and  with  the  laws  of  providence  which  operate  in  the 
ordinary  world  ;  their  extreme  simplicity  and  compre- 
hensive variety  ;  their  refusal  to  make  the  supernat- 
ural more  Divine  than  the  natural,  and  the  absence 
in  them  of  the  peculiar  elements  which  plainly  dis- 
tinguish all  myths,  legends,  and  apocryphal  miracles ; 
these  internal  evidences  produce  upon  our  minds  an 
impression,  which  we  may  not  be  able  always  to  de- 
fine, but  which  is  so  strong,  so  cumulative,  so  abiding, 
that  no  amount  of  verbal  criticism  of  the  Gospel  nar- 
ratives, or  of  abstract  scientific  argument  founded 
upon  the  laws  of  nature,  can  do  away  with  it.  If, 
indeed,  the  miracles  of  the  Gospel  were  never  per- 
formed ;  then  we  have  to  deal,  in  the  record  of  them 
as  imaginary  creations,  with  a  literary  miracle  a  great 
deal  harder  to  understand  and  receive. 

One  of '  the  most  striking  features  of  our  Lord's 
miracles  is,  not  only  the  wise  economy  pervading 
every  part  of  them,  but  the  sparingness  of  their  per- 
formance. In  this  respect,  they  conformed  to  that 
law  of  stability  and  silence,  which  is  as  characteristic 
of  God's  government  in  the  spiritual  as  in  the  natural 
world.     He  who  was  not  prodigal  of  revelation,  and 


XIV  INTRODUCTION. 

opened  His  heavens  but  seldom  in  the  history  of 
mankind,  was  equally  reserved,  when  He  assumed 
our  nature,  in  putting  forth  His  bared  right  hand 
from  behind  the  veil  and  beneath  the  covering  of  His 
ordinary  providence.  Instead  of  availing  Himself  of 
the  Divine  power  which  He  possessed,  at  all  times 
and  on  all  occasions,  in  order  to  confer  startling 
benefits  —  as  we  should  have  expected  a  professed 
miracle-worker  to  do  —  He  only  wrought  a  few  rep- 
resentative miracles,  on  rare  and  adequate  occasions. 
There  is  an  utter  absence  of  prodigality  in  all  the 
groups  into  which  His  miracles  may  be  arranged  ; 
and  very  specially  is  this  to  be  noted  in  that  distinct 
class  of  wonders  in  which  His  power  over  the  last 
enemy  was  displayed.  Only  three  instances  are  given 
of  His  having  raised  the  dead  to  life.  And  although 
St.  John,  at  the  close  of  his  Gospel,  remarks  that  the 
wonders  recorded  are  only  a  few  specimens  out  of 
many  which  have  been  allowed  to  pass  into  oblivion, 
still  we  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  we  possess 
an  account  of  all  the  instances  of  this  particular  kind 
of  miracle  that  actually  occurred.  There  is  a  mani- 
fest completeness  about  the  series,  as  regards  num- 
ber, gradation,  and  significance,  which  forbids  the 
speculation  that  our  Lord  had  resuscitated  any  others 


INTROD  UC  TIOiV.  XV 

save  the  daughter  of  Jairus,  the  widow  of  Nain's  son, 
and  Lazarus.  We  can  detect  in  each  of  these  cases 
a  special  fitness  in  the  miracle.  One  was  an  only 
child  ;  the  other  the  only  son  of  a  widow  ;  and  the 
third  the  only  brother  of  two  orphan  sisters.  The 
closest  and  most  tender  relationships  of  life  were 
represented.  And  surely  if  the  evidence  of  three 
witnesses  is  sufficient  to  establish  any  fact,  the  con- 
current testimony  of  these  three  eminent  examples  is 
enough  to  prove  conclusively  the  reality,  and  to  show 
distinctly  the  nature  of  our  Lord's  triumph  over 
death  and  the  grave. 

Our  Lord's  three  raisings  from  the  dead  are  the 
greatest  works  which  He  performed  on  earth.  He 
who  increased  in  wisdom  and  in  stature  is  repre- 
sented in  the  Gospels  as  rising  from  lower  to  higher 
manifestations  of  His  Divine  power.  He  began 
with  miracles  of  nature,  and  ended  with  miracles  of 
restoration  from  the  dead.  He  removed  first  the 
sicknesses  and  sufferings,  the  privations  and  limita- 
tions, with  which  we  ourselves  have  to  struggle 
every  day,  and  frequently  with  success  ;  and  then 
conquered  the  greatest  of  all  evils  —  that  death 
which  is  the  triumph  of  sin,  its  most  bitter  and 
poisonous   fruit — which   we   find   ourselves   utterly 


XV]  INTRO  D  UC  TION. 

powerless  to  prevent  or  remedy.  The  hope  which 
He  came  to  establish  was  not  confined  within  the 
narrow  limits  of  this  world  ;  it  was  to  have  a  fuller 
and  more  perfect  dominion  in  the  eternal  world. 
And,  therefore,  the  impenetrable  wall  of  death, 
which  seemed  to  bar  the  way,  was  broken  down,  and 
made  the  passage  into  a  grander  life  and  a  wider 
place  —  the  door  into  that  kingdom  whose  gates  are 
never  shut.  Although  the  other  miracles  lead  up 
step  by  step  to  them,  the  three  raisings  from  the 
dead  constitute  a  group  by  themselves.  For  the 
other  miracles,  as  Trench  has  well  pointed  out,  we 
are  prepared  by  our  own  experience  ;  but  these  mir- 
acles are  contrary  to  all  that  we  have  ever  seen  or 
known  in  ordinary  life.  We  recognize  in  the  con- 
version of  water  into  wine,  in  the  multiplication  of 
loaves  and  fishes,  in  the  calming  of  the  tempest,  and 
in  the  healing  of  diseases,  a  Divine  acceleration,  so 
to  speak,  of  common  processes  of  nature.  Water  is 
changed  into  wine  in  the  vineyard,  and  bread  multi- 
plied in  the  cornfield,  by  the  ordinary  operations 
of  sun,  shower,  and  vegetable  life  extending  over 
months  ;  storms  naturally  subside  gradually ;  and 
diseases  are  cured  after  a  time  by  treatment  of  the 
physician,    or    yield    to    the    restorative    powers   of 


INTRODUCTION.  XVll 

nature.  Their  analogies  in  the  external  world,  or  in 
the -field  of  providence,  render  these  miracles  less 
astonishing  and  more  comprehensible.  But  there  is 
nothing  in  nature  analogous  to  Christ's  raisings  from 
the  dead.  These  are  unique  actions,  transcending  as 
well  as  superseding  the  ordinary  laws  by  which 
nature  works.  "  Between  disease  and  health  there  is 
no  distinct  Hne  of  demarcation  ;  the  two  conditions 
shade  imperceptibly  into  each  other,  and  the  transi- 
tion between  them  is  made  every  day,  and  in  the  ex- 
perience, some  time  or  other,  of  almost  every  human 
being.  But  between  life  and  death — between  the 
continuance  and  cessation  of  existence — there  is  a 
fixed  absolute  boundary,  which  nothing  in  our  ordi- 
nary experience  can  help  us,  even  in  imagination,  to 
overleap."  In  a  higher  sense,  therefore,  than  any  of 
the  other  miracles,  our  Lord's  three  raisings  from  the 
dead  are  revelations  of  Divine  power,  and  are 
charged  with  meanings  more  profound  and  far-reach- 
ing. They  are  preeminently  reflections  of  the  glory 
of  the  Incarnation.  They  are  most  difficult  to  be- 
lieve and  realize  ;  but,  when  accepted  in  simple 
trustfulness,  they  are  most  fraught  with  consolation 
and  hope.     They  have  drawn  out  the  strongest  oppo- 


XVlll  INTRODUCTION. 

sition  of  hardened  scepticism,  and  the  most  reveren- 
tial gratitude  of  faith. 

The  law  of  progression,  which  we  can  trace  in  the 
miracles  in  general,  is  strikingly  exhibited  in  this  par- 
ticular group.  The  great  doctrine  of  individual  im- 
mortality was  progressively  revealed  to  man.  Clearer 
and  fuller  glimpses  of  it  were  given  to  certain  favored 
individuals  in  different  epochs.  The  faint  surmisings 
concerning  a  future  state  which  we  see  in  the  earlier 
dispensations,  brightened  into  ampler  representations 
in  the  later  ;  until  at  last  life  and  immortality  were 
brought  to  light  through  the  Gospel.  A  similar  ad- 
vancement may  be  seen,  looked  at  from  a  human 
point  of  view,  in  our  Lord's  three  raisings  from  the 
dead  ;  for  they  were  not  a  threefold  repetition  of  the 
same  miracle,  but  ascended  by  successive  steps  of 
difficulty  and  wonder  to  a  glorious  climax.  It  must 
be  admitted,  however,  that  no  thought  of  such  a 
gradation  appears  to  have  entered  the  minds  of  the 
Evangelists,  by  whom  one  miracle  seems  to  have  been 
regarded  as  easy  or  as  difficult  as  another  ;  and  Strauss 
has  taken  advantage  of  the  orthodox  admission  of 
progress  in  these  miracles  as  favoring  his  theory  of 
Christian  myth-making.  Still,  it  is  lawful  to  apply 
this  ascending  scale  to  them,  for  Scripture  itself  irre- 


INTRODUCTION.  XiX 

sistibly  suggests  it ;  and  we  believe  that  the  death- 
bed, the  bier,  the  tomb  witnessed  the  gradual  unfold- 
ing manifestation  of  the  power  of  Him  in  whom  the 
Divinity  was  ever  present  and  ever  active,  not  only 
co-existent  but  co-efficient.  In  the  first  case  death 
had  only  seized  its  victim  ;  in  the  second  the  sorrow- 
ing mother  was  on  her  way  to  commit  the  body  of 
her  only  son  to  the  grave  ;  and  in  the  third  the  corpse 
had  been  deposited  for  several  days  in  the  tomb. 
Our  Lord  called  back  to  life,  first,  a  child,  later  a 
young  man,  and  lastly  a  man  in  the  prime  and  vigor 
of  his  days.  And,  rising  thus  one  above  the  other, 
these  increasing  miracles  pointed  forward  to,  and  pre- 
pared the  way  for,  the  mightier  miracle  of  Christ's 
resurrection,  in  their  own  day  ;  and  now  they  point 
us  onward  further  still,  to  the  stupendous  miracle  of 
the  general  resurrection  of  the  dead  at  the  last  day 
—  which  will  put  the  cope  stone  upon  the  glorious 
work  of  the  new  creation. 

Like  the  symbolical  rites  of  the  Levitical  law, 
which  served  a  temporary  purpose,  the  miracles  of 
restoration  from  the  dead  have  passed  away ;  but  like 
these  rites,  they  have  their  permanent  place  and  pur- 
pose in  Revelation.  They  shine  as  "  a  light  in  a  dark 
place,"  as  a  taper  in  the  chamber  of  suffering  during 


XX  INTR  on  UC  TION. 

the  long  weary  watches  of  the  night,  to  which  we  do 
well  to  give  heed  till  the  day  dawn.  They  are  dem- 
onstrations to  us  that  all  the  prophecies  which  de- 
scribe the  putting  an  end  forever  to  the  unnatural 
thing,  death,  and  the  bringing  back  of  the  true  death- 
less nature  shall  be  fulfilled.  In  the  light  of  these  as- 
cending miracles,  we  read  the  great  truth  which  they 
teach,  that,  as  the  first  act  of  the  new  creation  was 
the  union  of  the  Divine  and  human  natures  in  the 
person  of  Jesus  Christ,  so  the  last  act  of  the  new  cre- 
ation will  be  the  immortal  union  of  the  redeemed  soul 
and  spirit  with  the  renewed  body  fashioned  like  unto 
the  glorious  body  of  Christ.  In  the  light  of  these 
miracles,  we  take  courage  ;  for  they  tell  us  that  our 
life  is  not  like  the  march  of  prisoners  sentenced  to 
death,  led  irresistibly  along  to  the  fatal  spot  where 
all  shall  be  ended  forever,  but  an  Emmaus-journey 
—  a  walk  with  Christ  —  in  which  we  shall  overstep 
the  grave,  and  continue  our  immortal  progress  in  that 
bright  world  in  which  there  shall  be  no  more  death, 
completely  attaining  the  archetype  towards  which  our 
life  here  has  been  one  long  reaching  out.  In  the 
light  of  these  miracles  we  rejoice  ;  for  as  the  dead 
who  were  raised  on  earth  were  restored  to  the  friends 
that  were  nearest  and  dearest,  and  surrounded  when 


INTRODUCTION.  XX 

they  awoke  by  all  the  tender  and  hallowed  associa- 
tions of  home,  so  we  shall  open  our  eyes  beyond  the 
grave,  not  in  a  solitary  state,  and  in  a  strange  un- 
known scene,  but  in  what  we  shall  feel  to  be  a  true 
home,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  faithful  hearts  and 
the  familiar  faces  that  we  loved  and  lost.  God  in 
these  miracles  has  crowned  our  human  affections 
with  the  highest  glory,  and  made  them  the  pledges 
of  their  own  immortality.  "  If  a  man  die,  shall  he 
live  again  }  All  the  days  of  my  appointed  time  will 
I  wait  till  my  change  come.  Thou  shalt  call  and  I 
will  answer  thee  ;  thou  wilt  have  a  desire  to  the  work 
of  thine  hands." 


CHAPTER   I. 

THE  RAISING   OF  JAIRUS'  DAUGHTER, 


St.  Mark  v.  21  to  the  End. 

And  when  Jesus  was  passed  over  again  by  ship  unto  the  other  side,  much  people 
gathered  unto  him  :  and  he  was  nigh  unto  the  sea.  And,  bel\old,  there  cometh  one 
of  the  rulers  of  the  synagogue,  Jairus  by  name ;  and  when  he  saw  him,  he  fell  at  his 
feet,  and  besought  him  greatly,  saying,  My  little  daughter  lieth  at  the  point  of  death  : 
I  pray  thee  come  and  lay  thy  hands  on  her,  that  she  may  be  healed  ;  and  she  shall 
live.     And  Jesus  went  with  him  ;  and  much  people  followed  him,  and  thronged  him. 

And  a  certain  woman,  which  had  an  issue  of  blood  twelve  years,  and  had  suffered 
many  things  of  many  physicians,  and  had  spent  all  that  she  had,  and  was  nothing 
bettered,  but  rather  grew  worse,  when  she  had  heard  of  Jesus,  came  in  the  press  be- 
hind, and  touched  his  garment.  For  she  said,  If  I  may  touch  but  his  clothes,  I  shall 
be  whole.  And  straightway  the  fountain  of  her  blood  was  dried  up  ;  and  she  felt  in 
her  body  that  she  was  healed  of  that  plague.  And,  Jesus,  immediately  knowing  in 
himself  that  virtue  had  gone  out  of  him,  turned  him  about  in  the  press,  and  said, 
Who  touched  my  clothes  ?  And  his  disciples  said  unto  him,  Thou  seest  the  multi- 
tude thronging  thee,  and  sayest  thou,  Who  touched  me  ?  And  he  looked  round 
about  to  see  her  that  had  done  this  thing.  But  the  woman,  fearing  and  trembling, 
knowing  what  was  done  in  her,  came  and  fell  down  before  him,  and  told  him  all  the 
truth.  And  he  said  unto  her.  Daughter,  thy  faith  hath  made  thee  whole  ;  go  in  peace, 
and  be  whole  of  thy  plague. 

While  he  yet  spake,  there  came  from  the  ruler  of  the  synagogue's  house  certain 
which  said,  Thy  daughter  is  dead  :  why  troublest  thou  the  Master  any  further  ?  As 
soon  as  Jesus  heard  the  word  that  had  been  spoken,  he  saith  unto  the  ruler  of  the 
synagogue.  Be  not  afraid,  only  believe.  And  he  suffered  no  man  to  follow  him,  save 
Peter,  and  James,  and  John  the  brother  of  James.  And  he  cometh  to  the  house  of 
the  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  and  seeth  the  tumult,  and  them  that  wept  and  wailed 
greatly.  And  when  he  was  come  in,  he  saith  unto  them.  Why  make  ye  this  ado,  and 
weep  ?  the  damsel  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth.  And  they  laughed  him  to  scorn.  But 
when  he  had  put  them  all  out,  he  taketh  the  father  and  the  mother  of  the  damsel, 
and  them  that  were  with  him,  and  entereth  in  where  the  damsel  was  lying.  And  he 
took  the  damsel  by  the  hand,  and  said  unto  her,  Talitha  cumi ;  which  is,  being  inter- 
preted.  Damsel,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise.  And  straightway  the  damsel  arose,  and 
walked ;  for  she  was  of  the  age  of  twelve  years.  And  thej'  were  astonished  with 
a  great  astonishment.  And  he  charged  them  straitly  that  no  man  should  know  it ; 
and  commanded  that  something  should  be  given  her  to  eat. 

See  also  St.  Matthew  ix.  18-27,  and  St.  Luke  viii.  41  to  the  end. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    RAISING    OF   JAIRUS'    DAUGHTER. 

^  ^ERY  lonely  and  deserted  is  the  present  aspect 
^  of  the  whole  region  around  the  northwestern 
shore  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee.  Much  of  the  old  beauty 
of  nature  still  remains  ;  but  there  are  few  or  no  in- 
habitants ;  and  frequent  ruins  mark  the  sites  of  pop- 
ulous places  whose  very  names  have  been  forgotten. 
The  Saviour's  words  of  doom  regarding  the  principal 
towns  of  this  part  of  Galilee  have  been  fulfilled  to 
the  very  letter  ;  and  the  fate  of  Sodom  and  Gomor- 
rah, the  cities  of  that  beautiful  plain  which  was  well 
watered  everywhere  as  a  garden  of  the  Lord,  has 
overtaken  Bethsaida  and  Chorazin,  planted  in  the 
midst  of  scenery  even  more  fertile  and  lovely,  on  the 
shores  of  a  lake  whose  peculiar  physical  features  re- 
semble in  a  remarkable  degree  those  of  its  sister-sea 
in  the  south.  In  the  days  of  our  Lord,  however,  this 
region  was  the  focus  of  all  the  life  and  activity  of  the 
Holy  Land.  Here  were  concentrated  the  largest 
masses  of  the  population  ;  the  rich  resources  of  the 
lake  and  of  the  surrounding  country  affording  them 
abundant   food   and   occupation.     During   the  three 


26  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

)ears  of  His  public  ministry,  Jesus  made  this  garden 
of  Palestine  His  home.  Nowhere  else  could  He  who 
came  to  preach  Divine  truth  to  the  weary  and  heavy- 
laden,  and  to  seek  and  save  that  which  was  lost,  have 
found  such  a  suitable  sphere  for  His  labors  of  self- 
denying  love.  Nowhere  else  could  He  have  found 
such  numerous  representatives  of  all  the  races,  occu- 
pations, and  experiences  of  mankind,  ready  to  be 
influenced  by  His  many-sided,  world-wide  gospel. 
Amid  the  ceaseless  toil  and  turmoil  of  its  teeming 
villages  and  busy  waters  He  wrought  the  blessed 
works  of  Him  that  sent  Him,  and  revealed  the  bright 
hopes  of  His  kingdom  to  cheer  the  wretchedness  of 
humanity. 

It  was  to  this  scene  of  crowded  life  that  Jesus  re- 
turned from  the  comparatively  desolate  eastern  shores 
of  the  Sea  of  Galilee,  from  which  the  terrified  inhab- 
itants, smarting  under  the  loss  of  their  swine,  had 
besought  Him  to  depart.  Hardly  had  He  stepped 
upon  the  pebbly  strand  from  the  boat,  and  passed 
through  the  fringe  of  willow-like  oleanders  which 
adorned  the  water's  edge,  than  He  found  Himself  in 
the  midst  of  a  crowd  waiting  for  His  arrival.  St. 
Matthew  interposes  several  incidents  here  ;  but  St. 
Mark  informs  us  that,  immediately  after  landing,  and 
while  speaking  to  the  people,  a  man,  whose  dress  and 
appearance  marked  him  out  as  a  member  of  the 
upper  ranks  of  Jewish  society,  came  hastily  forward, 


JA/RUS'  DAUGHTER.  27 

and  saluted  Him  in  the  Eastern  manner  by  prostrat- 
ing himself  upon  the  ground  at  His  feet.  The  name 
of  this  man  was  Jairus,  and  he  was  one  of  the  pre- 
fects or  rulers,  in  all  probability  of  the  synagogue 
of  Capernaum.  Scripture  tells  us  nothing  of  his  pre- 
vious history.  He  is  brought  before  our  notice  solely 
in  connection  with  the  wonderful  work  wrought  upon 
his  daughter.  He  was  doubtless  well  acquainted 
with  the  person  and  reputation  of  Jesus,  for  Caper- 
naum was  the  place  of  our  Lord's  abode  for  a  time 
sufficiently  long  to  admit  of  its  being  called  His  own 
city.  In  its  synagogue  He  often  worshipped  and 
taught,  and  the  wonderful  discourse  recorded  in  the 
sixth  chapter  of  St.  John's  Gospel  was  spoken  within 
its  walls.  Many  of  His  mighty  works  were  wrought 
in  the  city  or  in  the  immediate  neighborhood.  Jairus 
had  doubtless  often  heard  those  gracious  words,  and 
seen  those  wonderful  miracles,  which  had  raised  the 
city  to  the  highest  elevation  in  point  of  privilege  and 
honor.  What  impression  they  had  produced  upon 
him  when  all  was  well  with  him  we  know  not,  but  in 
the  hour  of  sorrow  he  remembered  the  power  and 
kindness  of  this  extraordinary  man,  and  hastened  to 
seek  His  aid.  Affliction  had  given  him  greater  spir-j 
itual  insight  than  usual  ;  and,  feeling  himself  to  be, 
in  the  presence  of  a  superior  being,  his  salutation' 
was  not  a  mere  customary  formality  of  Eastern  greet- 
ing, but  a  distinct  act  of  worship,  a  recognition  of 


28  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

the  claims  of  Jesus  to  the  highest  reverence  on  ac- 
count of  His  holiness  and  authority.  And,  consider- 
ing the  position  of  a  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  to  whom 
the  Jews  looked  up  with  great  respect,  this  act  of 
homage  is  a  striking  proof  of  the  high  estimation  in 
which  Jesus  was  held  at  that  time,  even  by  those  of 
most  exalted  rank.  It  has  been  suggested,  indeed, 
that  on  a  former  occasion  Jairus  had  come  into  con- 
tact with  Jesus,  had  been  a  member  of  the  deputation 
who  urged  Jesus  to  grant  the  request  of  the  Roman 
centurion,  on  the  ground  of  his  love  to  the  Jews,  and 
his  munificence  in  building  for  them  a  synagogue. 
If  so,  he  who  pleaded  then  for  another,  now  pleads 
for  himself,  and  experience  of  former  help  emboldens 
his  present  appeal. 

Without  waiting  for  any  questioning  as  to  the  ob- 
ject of  his  coming,  in  faltering  accents,  broken  and 
rendered  incoherent  by  bursts  of  grief,  he  besought 
Jesus  to  come  with  him  at  once  to  his  house.  He 
said  he  had  a  little  daughter  at  home  so  seriously  ill 
that  he  knew  not  whether  she  was  at  that  moment 
living  or  dead.  He  had  left  her  apparently  at  the 
point  of  death,  and  he  entreated  Jesus  to  hasten  to 
her,  if  perchance  life  yet  remained,  for  he  knew  that 
if  He  did  but  lay  His  hand  upon  her  she  would  be 
restored.  St.  Luke  tells  us  that  the  little  daughter 
of  Jairus  was  his  only  child,  and  that  she  was  about 
twelve  years  of  age.     Upon  her  all  the  affections  of 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  29 

her  parents'  hearts  were  doubtless  concentrated. 
She  was  the  joy  and  the  sunbeam  of'  their  home, 
whose  presence  set  their  life  to  music,  and  brought 
back  to  them  the  gladness  and  innocence  of  their 
own  young  days.  She  filled  the  vista  of  every  hope, 
and  formed  the  subject  of  every  dream  of  the  future 
which  they  cherished.  She  had  arrived  at  that  age 
which  is  fullest  of  interest,  when  the  bud  of  child- 
hood is  about  to  open  and  to  disclose  the  hidden 
beauties  and  mysterious  possibilities  of  life.  She 
was  in  the  transition  state  between  the  passive  sim- 
plicity of  the  child  and  the  settled  independence  of 
womanhood  ;  still  clinging  with  unquestioning  trust- 
fulness to  the  past,  and  with  unchanged  love  to  the 
old  ties  and  associations  of  home,  but  casting  out 
•tendrils  of  hope  and  wistful  thought  to  the  mystic 
future  stretching  before  her,  with  all  its  unknown 
experiences  and  untried  responsibilities.  The  heaven 
of  her  infancy  brooded  over  her  still,  full  as  ever  of 
the  old  tenderness ;  but  a  new  life  was  about  to  dawn 
upon  her  out  of  its  horizon.  And  with  this  dawning 
of  a  higher  consciousness  upon  her  young  mind,  this 
first  awakening  of  an  interest  in  real  life  and  history, 
would  come  the  seriousness  which,  like  the  bloom  on 
the  fruit,  is  one  of  the  greatest  charms  of  youth,  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  of  God's  inspirations. 

The  twelfth  year  we  know  was  a  marked  period  in 
the  life  of  a  Jewish  youth.     He  was  then  called  by  a 


30  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

title  which  means  "son  of  the  law,"  and  from  that  this 
period  he  began  to  bear  a  part  in  the  various  duties 
prescribed  by  the  Levitical  law,  to  go  up  to  Jerusalem 
and  worship  at  all  the  great  festivals.  It  was  at  this 
age  that  our  Lord  Himself  paid  his  first  visit  to 
Jerusalem,  and  was  found  by  His  disconsolate  par- 
ents, who  had  missed  Him  on  their  homeward  jour- 
ney, in  the  temple  questioning  the  learned  doctors 
regarding  the  significant  events  of  Jewish  history, 
and  the  great  rites  and  ceremonies  of  the  law  of 
Moses.  We  know  not  if  a  similar  custom  prevailed 
in  regard  to  Jewish  maidens,  but  it  is  extremely  likely 
that  it  did.  For  women  it  was  prescribed,  not  by  the 
law  of  Moses,  but  by  the  traditions  of  the  elders, 
that  they  should  go  up  to  Jerusalem  once  a  year  to 
the  Passover.  And  in  all  probability  the  daughter  of 
Jairus  had  come  to  that  age,  when  her  parents  could 
take  her  with  them  on  their  annual  journey  from  Ca- 
pernaum to  Jerusalem,  to  keep  the  greatest  of  all 
the  Jewish  feasts.  And  doubtless  she  had  looked 
forward  to  this  first  visit  to  the  sacred  city,  with  all 
the  excitement  and  enthusiasm  with  which  a  child 
contemplates  its  first  departure  from  its  quiet  home 
to  the  busy  scenes  of  the  great  world,  of  which  it  has 
formed  the  most  romantic  pictures.  Brought  up  in 
the  house  of  a  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  her  aspirations 
would  doubtless  find  a  congenial  atmosphere  in  which 
to  breathe.     She  would  be  taught  to  cherish,  from 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  3  I 

her  childhood,  a  feding  of  reverence  towards  all 
those  sacred  things  which  were  the  heritage  of  her 
race  ;  and  perhaps  to  look  forward  with  eager  hope 
to  the  fulfilment  of  that  great  promise  of  the  Mes- 
siah, which,  like  a  golden  thread,  ran  through  and 
united  and  harmonized  all  the  wonderful  chapters  of 
her  nation's  history.  She  must  have  heard  her  father 
and  his  brother  ofificials  often  speak  about  the  temple, 
which  was  the  sign  of  God's  dwelling  amongst  His 
people,  and  about  the  sacrifices  always  smoking  upon 
the  altars,  and  about  the  priests,  and  the  learned 
scribes,  and  lawyers,  whose  sacred  labors  invested 
the  p^ice  vvdth  a  halo  of  almost  Divine  solemnity. 
Year  after  year  she  had  watched  with  growing  in- 
terest and  yearnings  the  departure  of  her  parents,  as 
they  went  up  to  behold  all  these  wonders  and  take 
part  in  all  these  services.  And  the  time  at  length 
had  come  when  she  herself  was  about  to  go  up  as  a 
worshipper,  and  see  with  her  own  eyes  what  she  had 
heard  with  her  own  ears.  But,  alas  !  a  blight  from 
heaven  fell  upon  her  high  hopes  and  expectations. 
A  fatal  sickness  came  and  closed  the  opening  bud  of 
her  young  life.  And  now  death  was  about  to  sum- 
mon her  to  a  longer  pilgrimage,  to  a  more  sacred 
city,  and  to  higher  services  than  those  which  formed 
the  subject  of  her  bright  dreams  ;  and  for  her  the 
promise  of  the  Messiah  would  be  in  vain.  What  this 
sickness  which  seemed  to  be  unto  death  meant  to  the 


32  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

parents,  no  father's  or  mother's  heart  can  have  any 
difficulty  in  understanding.  I  have  seen  a  man  who 
had  all  of  life's  blessings  which  this  world  could  be- 
stow, wiping  the  death- dews  from  a  fair  young  face 
that  was  soon  to  be  an  angel's,  crying  out  in  heart- 
broken accents,  ''  Oh  !  my  God,  take  all  that  I  have, 
but  leave  me  my  child."  Such  must  have  been  the 
feeling  in  the  heart  of  Jairus  when  he  came  to  Jesus. 
All  the  glory  of  the  world  was  stripped  off  by  the 
crowning  calamity  which  had  darkened  his  home  and 
heart.  Rank,  wealth,  social  and  religious  considera- 
tion, all  the  things  which  he  prized  before,  were  made 
in  a  moment  as  barren  of  interest  and  beauty,  as  a 
garden  in  November  on  which  has  fallen  the  first 
black  frost  of  winter. 

The  very  fact  that  Jairus  had  left  his  daughter  to 
seek  the  help  of  Jesus,  when  her  life  was  ebbing  so 
fast  away,  shows  how  urgent  was  his  necessity. 
With  death  standing  so  close,  ready  to  snatch  his 
child  from  his  arms,  he  could  not,  in  ordinary  cir- 
cumstances, have  left  her  side  for  a  moment.  He 
could  not  afford  to  lose  a  single  look  of  that  dear  face 
that  would  soon  be  hid  from  him  in  the  darkness  of 
death  ;  a  single  tone  of  the  sweet  voice  which  would 
soon  be  hushed  in  the  silence  of  the  grave.  This 
unspeakably  precious  residue  of  life  would  require  to 
be  made  the  most  of  ;  for  no  hand  could  turn  the 
hour-glass  of  time  when  the  golden  sands  had  run 


JAIRUS'  DAUGHTER.  33 

out.  And  yet,  with  a  wonderful  self-denial,  he  had 
surrendered  the  last  sad  moments  of  love's  farewell 
for  this  hope  —  desperate  as  it  might  seem  —  of  get- 
ting his  daughter  altogether  restored  to  his  arms,  and 
the  shadow  of  death  put  back  many  degrees  on  the 
dial  of  life.  "And  when  he  saw  Him,  he  fell  at  His 
feet  and  besought  Him  greatly,  saying,  Master,  my 
little  daughter  lieth  at  the  point  of  death,  I  pray  thee 
come  and  lay  thy  hands  upon  her  that  she  may  be 
healed  and  she  shall  live." 

The  words  "and  besought  him  greatly"  indicate 
the  wild  urgency  of  Jairus'  petition,  and  not  the  Sa- 
viour's hesitation  or  indifference.  They  describe  the 
measure  of  Jairus'  fear,  and  not  the  measure  of  the 
Saviour's  pity.  Jesus  did  not  need  to  be  besought. 
The  slightest  whisper  would  have  sufficed.  From  the 
sight  of  suffering  He  never  averted  His  eyes  coldly  ; 
to  the  cry  of  distress  He  never  turned  a  deaf  ear. 
And  therefore,  He  who  made  Himself  known  to  men 
in  His  highest  glory  through  a  fellowship  with  their 
miseries,  rose  immediately  and  went  away  with  the 
broken-hearted  father  to  the  home  where  he  ex- 
pected to  see  his  worst  fears  confirmed.  Nor  did  they 
go  alone.  The  disciples  of  Jesus  also  accompanied 
them  ;  and  the  people  who  had  been  listening  to  His 
teaching  followed  in  their  train,  curious  to  see  the 
end.  As  they  passed  along,  the  crowd  increased  to 
such  an  extent  that  they  filled  entirely  the  narrow 
3 


34  THREE  RAISr::GS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

way,  and  pressed  unpleasantly  upon  Jesus  and  upon 
his  companion,  who  could  not  move  on  as  fast  as  his 
terrible  anxiety  urged  him.  While  they  are  thus 
struggling  with  the  multitude,  a  woman,  on  whose 
emaciated  countenance  are  the  traces  of  severe  suf- 
fering, and  whose  form  is  feeble  with  want  and  poorly 
clad,  is  borne  unresistingly  along  in  the  surging 
crowd,  like  a  foam-flake  on  the  crest  of  a  dark  bil- 
low. She  seems  among  the  eager  multitude  as  much 
out  of  place  as  a  fragile  Alpine  flower,  blanched  by 
the  wind  and  snow  to  a  ghostly  paleness,  borne  down 
from  the  mountains  by  its  native  stream  into  the 
midst  of  the  gaudy  wild  flowers  of  the  meadows. 
She  had  heard  the  fame  of  Jesus  as  a  wonder-worker, 
healing  diseases  which  had  previously  baffled  the 
most  skilful  remedies,  and  of  His  great  kindness  to 
the  poor,  treating  their  various  troubles  with  uniform 
tenderness,  and  sending  none  who  applied  to  Him 
away  unaided.  A  sudden  hope  springs  up  in  her 
weary  heart  that  this  wonderful  Being  may  do  for 
her  what  no  other  one  had  been  able  to  do.  Poor 
and  unfriended,  having  spent  for  twelve  long  years 
upon  physicians,  as  we  are  touchingly  told,  all  her  liv- 
ing—  the  little  hoard  which  she  had  carefully  saved 
up  for  a  time  of  need — and  her  disease  still  as  active 
as  ever,  nay,  aggravated  by  the  painfulness  of  the  at- 
tempted remedies  ;  her  case  is  indeed  one  that  is 
well  fitted  to  arrest  the  eye  and  excite  the  tenderness 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  35 

of  the  compassionate  Redeemer.      In  the  ebb  and 

flow  of  the  crowd,  she  finds  herself  close  to  Him. 
With  trembling  awe,  feeling  her  own  unworthiness 
in  the  presence  of  one  so  good  and  great,  unwilling 
to  divert  Him  for  a  moment  from  His  solemn  pur- 
pose, or  to  direct  the  attention  of  the  multitude  to 
herself,  she  conies  behind  Him,  and,  stooping  down, 
modestly,  shrinkingly  touches  the  hem  of  His  gar- 
ment as  it  trails  on  the  ground,  saying  within  her- 
self, "  If  I  may  but  touch  His  garment,  I  shall  be 
made  whole." 

There  was  a  moral  significance  in  the  hem  of  a 
Jew's  garment.  According  to  the  Mosaic  lavv,  it  re- 
quired to  be  bound  with  a  ribbon  of  blue  as  a 
memorial  of  God's  goodness  to  Israel,  and  a  re- 
minder of  the  debt  of  gratitude  which  they  owed 
Him.  Like  all  ordinances  addressed  to  the  senses, 
this  custom,  however,  failed  in  the  course  of  ages  to 
fulfil  its  wise  purpose  ;  for  the  Pharisees  enlarged  the 
blue  ribbon,  and  made  broad  their  phylacteries,  in 
order  that  they  might  receive  praise  from  men  for 
their  scrupulous  adherence  to  the  mere  letter  of  the 
law.  Our  Saviour  Himself  in  ail  likelihood  wore  this 
significant  blue  fringe  on  the  border  of  His  woven  and 
seamless  coat  ;  for  every  command  of  the  law  was 
sacred  to  Him,  and,  in  speaking  of  the  custom  of  His 
nation,  it  was  the  abuse  and  not  the  use  that  He  con- 
demned.     It  is  possible  that  the  woman   of  Caper- 


36  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

naum  may  have  been  prompted  to  touch  the  hem  of 
Christ's  garment,  not  merely  because  that  was  the 
part  of  it  which  lay  nearest  to  her,  and  which  she 
could  most  easily  reach,  but  also,  because  she  attrib- 
uted a  peculiar  virtue  to  it  from  its  sacred  associa- 
tions. Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the  deed  is  at 
least  significant  of  ardent  faith  and  profound  humil- 
ity ;  and  it  has  an  instantaneous  reward.  No  one 
notices  her  action  ;  no  one  knew  her  necessity.  Her 
sorrow  and  her  hope  are  both  sealed  up  in  her  own 
heart,  and  no  stranger  can  intermeddle  with  them. 
But  no  sooner  does  her  hand  come  into  contact  with 
the  robe  of  Jesus  than  the  ebb  of  life  ceases,  and 
she  knows  in  herself  that  she  is  cured.  Though  con- 
tact with  one  afflicted  like  her  would  have  caused 
ceremonial  uncleanness  till  the  evening,  that  single 
touch  through  faith  of  Him  whom  nothing  can  defile, 
and  who  passed  like  a  sunbeam  through  all  the  pol- 
lutions of  earth,  has  purified  her,  and  done  what  the 
waste  of  all  her  substance  spent  upon  earthly  physi- 
cians could  not  do.  Even  amid  the  pressure  of  the 
crowd,  Jesus  felt  that  one  magnetic  touch  of  faith 
which  drew  healing  virtue  out  of  Him.  And  we  may 
well  suppose  that  He  who  took  pleasure  in  the  cen- 
turion's confidence,  and  the  Magdalen's  love,  and  the 
Samaritan  leper's  gratitude,  and  the  devotion  of  Mary 
of  Bethany,  despised  and  rejected  of  men  as  He  com- 
monly was,  must  have  also  rejoiced,  as  a  foretaste  of 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  37 

the  joy  set  before  Him,  in  the  signal  proof  of  confi- 
dence in  Him  given  by  this  poor  lone  woman.  When 
she  had  touched  Him  and  was  healed,  He  turned 
round  and  caused  the  sunshine  of  His  loving  counte- 
nance to  shine  upon  her.  He  did  not  wish  to  turn 
the  eyes  of  the  crowd  upon  her  to  embarrass  her  and 
aggravate  her  pain,  until  she  had  felt  the  sense  of 
the  happy  wonder  that  had  been  wTought  upon  her, 
and,  in  the  new  strength  of  her  cure,  was  lifted  above 
all  morbid  shame.  And  now.  He  will  not  suffer  her 
to  remain  in  concealment  any  longer,  to  go  away  in 
this  stolen,  impersonal,  unrecognizing  way.  By  a 
searching  question  and  a  gracious  force  He  causes 
her  to  come  forward  out  of  the  crowd  and  reveal  her- 
self all  trembling  and  blushing  with  gratitude  and 
awe.  She  tells  all  the  truth,  not  to  Jesus  only,  but 
before  all  the  people  ;  she  discloses  the  secret  source 
of  her  impurity  as  well  as  its  cure.  The  work  of  faith 
is  perfected  by  open  confession  ;  and  therefore,  be- 
fore all  the  people,  Jesus  bestowed  upon  her  that 
higher  spiritual  blessing,  of  which  the  healing  of  the 
body  was  the  outward  emblem  and  preparation,  and 
which  would  be  an  overflowing  fountain  of  joy  in  her 
heart  to  her  dying  day. 

This  incident  in  itself,  and  apart  from  its  circum- 
stances, is  exceedingly  suggestive.  But  there  is  one 
special  doctrine  which  it  illustrates  and  enforces  in 
a  very  striking  way,  viz.,  that  Salvation  is  a  simple, 


38  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

easy  thing  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  a  very  small  part 
of  Gospel  truth  is  sufficient  to  save  the  soul  The 
poor  woman  with  the  issue  of  blood  did  not  know 
Christ  intimately  like  St.  Peter  or  St.  John.  She 
had  probably  never  seen  Him  before.  We  know  not 
even  if  she  saw  His  face  until  she  was  healed,  for  we 
are  told  that  she  stole  up  behind  Him.  She  did  not 
embrace  Him  in  her  arms,  or  hold  His  hand,  or  press 
directly  against  His  body.  She  did  not  hear  Him 
preach,  or  see  Him  perform  a  miracle.  She  only 
touched  the  hem  of  His  garment,  the  most  distant 
point  in  connection  with  Him.  And  the  faith  that 
prompted  her  to  do  this,  though  a  most  real  faith, 
was  perhaps  imperfect  in  its  form,  based  upon  a  su- 
perstitious idea,  upon  an  erroneous  estimate  of  the 
manner  in  which  the  heahng  power  of  Christ  was 
exerted.  And  yet,  through  the  channel  of  that  im- 
perfect faith,  and  by  that  slightest  of  all  possible 
contact  with  Jesus,  healing  virtue  flowed  from  Him 
to  her  ;  and  she  who  at  first  merely  touched  His 
garment  from  behind,  in  the  end  saw  His  face,  heard 
His  voice,  was  called,  Ruth-like,  His  daughter  —  an 
expression  used  here  alone  in  the  whole  New  Testa- 
ment, Jesus  calling  even  His  mother  and  Mary  Mag- 
dalene "  woman  "  —  and  gladdened  with  the  fulness 
of  that  peculiar  blessing  given  only  to  one  other  per- 
son in  the  Gospel  narrative.  And  does  not  this 
show  to  us,  as  in  a  parable,  that  a  very  slight  knowl- 


JAIRUS'  DAUGHTER.  39 

edge  of  the  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus,  if  there  be  faith 
to  apprehend  and  love  to  receive  and  act  upon  it, 
may  be  sufficient  to  save  and  restore  the  soul,  —  may- 
lead  to  the  greatest  and  most  blessed  spiritual  re- 
sults ?  Does  it  not  show  to  us  that  God  tests  faith 
not  by  a  balance,  but  by  a  magnet  ;  that  it  is  not  the 
quantity,  but  the  quality  of  it,  that  He  values  ? 

In  its  relation  to  the  other  miracle  which  Jesus 
was  on  His  way  to  perform,  this  parenthetic  cure 
teaches  us  the  precious  lesson,  that  even  in  His 
movement  to  a  given  point  and  a  great  end,  God  may 
be  interrupted  by  the  appeal  of  human  necessity. 
Jesus,  who  revealed  the  Father's  heart  and  method 
of  working,  shows  to  us  here,  by  His  own  conduct, 
the  connection  of  man's  wants  and  longings  with 
the  great  purposes  of  God  in  the  administration  of 
the  universe.  We  are  accustomed  to  hear,  in  these 
days,  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  world  but  uninter- 
rupted physical  causation,  ploughing  its  way  remorse- 
lessly towards  the  accomplishment  of  that  far-off 
event  to  which  the  whole  creation  moves  ;  that  soul 
is  but  a  function  of  the  brain,  and  God  a  metaphor 
for  force ;  or  that,  if  there  be  an  Almighty  Being,  He 
is  so  absorbed  in  the  world  that  all  idea  of  His  Di- 
vine personality  is  destroyed.  Students  of  science 
tell  us  that  the  laws  of  nature  are  fixed  and  unalter- 
able, —  that  they  carry  to  the  end,  without  any  pos- 
sibility of  deviation  or  interruption,  the  intentions  of 


40  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

God.  These  laws  have  no  special  word  or  exclusive 
look  for  us,  nothing  to  make  us  feel  that  we  are  pres- 
ent individually,  with  all  our  wants  and  sorrows,  be- 
fore the  Infinite  Mind.  He  has  chosen  to  proceed 
in  His  deahngs  with  His  creatures  according  to  a 
regular  and  uniform  order,  which  He  does  not  break, 
with  which  He  does  not  interfere,  simply  because  a 
frail  foolish  mortal  may  ask  Him  to  do  so.  But  the 
revelation  of  the  Bible  has  been  given  us  for  the 
very  purpose  of  correcting  these  false  notions  of 
God's  method  of  administration.  And  I  believe  that 
one  of  the  great  ends  which  the  miracle  within  a 
miracle  at  Capernaum  was  designed  to  serve,  is  just 
to  show  to  us  that  prayer  has  its  own  place  and  value 
in  this  great  system  of  law  and  order,  and  that  hu- 
man need  can  turn  aside  to  itself  the  Power  that  is 
carrying  on  the  general  work  of  the  world.  He  who 
stood  still  on  the  road  from  Jericho  to  Jerusalem, 
and  though  His  face  was  steadfastly  set  to  go  up  to 
the  cross,  there  to  work  out  the  salvation  of  man- 
kind, waited  until  the  blind  man  was  brought  to  Him 
to  be  cured  ;  He  who  found  leisure  and  tranquillity 
to  perform  a  beneficent  act  on  the  way  to  Jairus' 
house,  though  the  business  that  awaited  Him  was 
one  of  life  and  death  ;  was  the  same  who  in  former 
times  had  interrupted  the  continuous  flow  of  the  sea 
that  His  people  might  pass  through  in  safety,  and  in 
still  older  times,  when  there  were  no  human  beings 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  4 1 

in  existence,  had  made  frequent  breaks  in  nature's 
movements  in  order  that  higher  creations  might  be 
ushered  upon  the  scene.  And  He  is  the  same  now 
who  makes  a  silence  in  heaven's  choral  symphonies 
to  listen  to  the  crying  of  His  children,  and  rises  from 
His  throne  of  glory,  as  Stephen  saw  Him  in  vision, 
to  help  His  saints  in  their  extremity,  and  pauses,  as 
it  were,  in  the  mightiest  operations  of  His  hands  in 
order  to  minister  to  the  necessities  of  the  poorest 
sufferer.  We  cannot  surrender  the  idea  that  in  this 
great  chronology  of  the  universe,  which  comprehends 
the  times  and  the  seasons  of  all  created  things,  the 
orbits  and  revolutions  of  stars  and  systems,  there 
are  truly  "  years  of  the  right  hand  of  the  most  High" 
for  each  of  us  individually,  —  that  in  this  vast  total- 
ity of  correlated  forces  and  laws,  of  which  we  form 
a  part,  there  are  special  providences  and  particular 
answers  to  prayer,  and  proofs  which  cannot  be 
doubted,  that  God  is  thinking  of  us,  not  only  as 
present  somewhere  in  the  vast  whole  of  His  thought, 
but  as  individuals  known  by  name,  and  whom  He  is 
personally  leading  out,  and  healing,  and  blessing. 
There  is  a  law  in  our  minds  deeper  and  more  un- 
changing than  any  physical  law,  that  wars  with  the 
inference  which  some  scientific  men  derive  from  the 
direct  unvaried  operations  of  the  universe,  that  there 
can  be  no  special  movement  in  nature,  or  any  inter- 
ruption of  its  totality.     And  upon    this    mysterious 


42  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

something  within  us  that  demands  the  supernatural, 
and  creates  a  disposition  to  believe  in  it  —  which  is 
as  much  a  part  of  our  spiritual  constitution  as  the 
habitual  belief  in  nature's  regularity  itself,  is  built 
the  motive  and  encouragement  to  prayer,  and  the  as- 
surance that  our  prayer  will  be  heard  and  answered. 
God  is  my  Father,  and  through  Christ  I  know  that 
I  am  His  child  —  His  little  child,  and  knowing  little 
—  and  that  I  cannot  lay  hold,  with  however  trem- 
bling a  heart,  or  with  however  slight  and  timid  a 
touch,  upon  the  hem  of  His  garment  of  glory,  as  it 
sweeps  down  to  my  lowly  place  from  the  high  alti- 
tude of  Infinity,  without  drawing  love  from  His  heart 
and  power  from  His  arm,  and  making  Him  pause 
to  consider  my  case,  and  to  lift  on  me  the  light 
of  His  gracious  countenance,  just  as  if  there  were 
no  more  important  wants  than  mine  in  the  whole 
universe. 

We  are  apt  to  look  upon  the  healing  of  the  woman 
with  the  issue  of  blood  as  an  interruption  of  the  his- 
tory of  the  raising. of  the  daughter  of  Jairus  ;  as  a 
separate  and  distinct  incident  altogether.  But  there 
is  in  reality  the  closest  connection  between  the  two 
events.  They  are  brought  together  by  all  the  Evan- 
gelists, not  only  because  they  occurred  at  the  same 
time  and  in  the  same  association,  but  because  they 
mutually  help  to  explain  one  another.  If  we  put 
them  together,  like  the  two  pictures  in  a  stereoscopic 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  43 

slide,  we  shall  have  a  better  idea  of  the  wonderful 
unity  and  harmony  of  the  whole  narrative.  The  two 
miracles  fit  in  a  striking  way  into  each  other.  The 
beginning  of  the  woman's  plague  was  coeval  with 
the  maiden's  birth.  The  one  had  suffered  for  twelve 
years  before  she  was  made  whole,  the  other  had 
lived  twelve  years  when  she  fell  asleep  in  death  to 
awake  to  a  new  life.  And  is  not  the  character  of 
Jairus  brought  out  clearly  in  contrast,  with  that  of 
the  woman  t  We  see  the  stronger  faith  of  the 
woman,  content  with  only  the  minimum  of  means, 
with  the  remotest  and  slightest  contact  with  Jesus, 
believing  that  the  very  hem  of  His  garment  had 
power  to  heal  ;  and  the  weaker,  more  irresolute, 
faith  of  Jairus,  which  needed  personal  recognition 
and  the  support  of  sympathizing  words,  and  de- 
manded that  Jesus  should  visit  his  daughter,  and 
could  not  compass  the  thought  that  He  could  heal  at 
distance,  and  restore  when  the  vital  spark  had  fled. 
Indeed,  we  observe  in  the  woman  a  peculiar  energy, 
not  only  of  faith,  but  of  character,  as  shown  by  the 
resoluteness  of  her  striving  after  a  cure  for  twelve 
years,  and  spending  all  her  means  in  the  attempt, 
and  her  exertion  in  forcing  her  way  to  the  person  of 
Jesus  ;  an  energy  which  we  do  not  find  in  Jairus. 
We  see  the  profound  humility  and  shrinking  mod- 
esty of  the  woman,  coming  up  unobserved  behind 
Christ  in  the  crowd,  and  wishing  to  glide  away  silent 


44  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

as  a  shadow  unknown  and  unnoticed  ;  and  the  osten- 
tation of  Jairus,  coming  openly  to  Christ  in  the  face 
of  the  crowd,  and  uttering  his  petition  in  the  hear- 
ing of  all,  having  messengers  sent  to  him,  and  hav- 
ing hired  mourners  in  his  house  making  a  loud  lam- 
entation for  the  dead,  although  much  of  this  of 
course  was  rendered  necessary  by  the  different  nat- 
ure of  his  trouble.  Jairus  needed  the  discipline  of 
the  woman's  cure.  It  prepared  him  for  the  miracle 
that  was  about  to  be  wrought  for  himself.  It 
strengthened  his  faith,  it  tried  his  patience,  it  made 
him  less  selfish  ;  and  seeing  the  wondrous  effect  pro- 
duced upon  the  woman  by  the  mere  touch  of  Christ's 
garment,  it  kindled  a  hope  that  a  greater  thing  would 
be  done  for  himself  by  the  touch  of  Jesus'  hand  and 
the  sound  of  His  voice.  And  it  taught  him  the 
great  lesson  which  every  human  being  needs  to 
learn,  that  the  blessings  of  Divine  grace,  whether  as 
regards  the  soul  or  body,  are  not  individual,  but 
social,  —  that  no  man  can  be  saved  exclusively,  but 
his  salvation  is  bound  up  in  that  of  others. 

But,  whatever  effect  the  miracle  might  have  pro- 
duced upon  him,  the  delay  which  it  involved  must 
have  been  a  sore  trial  to  the  anxious  father,  when 
every  moment  was  precious,  and  the  time  when  all 
action,  as  he  thought,  would  be  unavailable  was  fast 
passing  away.  Think  of  the  house  of  mourning 
during  this  tarrying  ;  for  doubtless  Jairus  had   told 


JAIRUS'  DAUGHTER.  45 

his  wife  of  his  intention  to  seek  the  help  of  Jesus ! 
Can  we  not  recall  in  our  own  experience  something 
of  what  the  anxious  mother  must  have  been  feeling, 
while  death  was  shaking  the  last  few  sands  in  the 
hour-glass  of  her  daughter's  life,  and  no  help  was 
near  ?  Do  we  not  all  remember  a  time  of  despair 
when  we  wrestled  with  death  for  the  possession  of 
our  beloved,  and  strove  with  all  our  might  to  retain 
the  fleeting  breath,  so  inexpressibly  dear;  when  we 
tried  in  turn  each  expedient  we  could  think  of  to  ar- 
rest the  inevitable  doom,  only  to  abandon  it  imme- 
diately as  useless  —  crushed  by  the  sense  of  our  own 
impotency  and  of  the  sense  of  what  was  coming 
upon  us,  and  stung  almost  into  impious  outcries 
against  Providence  ?  Oh  !  life  has  no  such  awful 
experience  as  the  agony  of  those  moments  when  we 
watch  for  the  physician,  upon  whom  our  last  hope  is 
fixed,  and  he  cometh  not  ;  and  every  minute  of  sus- 
pense seems  like  an  age  of  misery.  Jesus  tarried 
while  this  distress  was  running  on,  and  tried  the 
faith  of  father  and  mother,  just  as  He  tried  the  faith 
of  the  sisters  of  Lazarus,  when  they  beheld  their  be- 
loved brother  drawing  near  to  the  grave,  and  still 
no  word  of  the  Lord  for  whom  they  had  sent.  The 
delay  was  in  the  plan  of  His  loving  kindness,  and 
essential  to  its  full  development.  It  formed  part  of 
the  preparation  He  was  making  to  give  the  parents 
a  plenteous  redemption,  —  to  bless  them   according 


46  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

to  the  fulness  of  His  own  loving  heart.  The  string 
was  tuned  to  its  tightest  tension,  that  it  might  sound 
the  true  note  of  heavenly  music  when  Christ's  mi- 
raculous finger  should  touch  it.  There  was  discipline 
in  waiting  ;  and  Jairus  doubtless  found  afterwards 
that  only  those  who  have  been  alone  days  and  nights 
with  deepest  sorrow  are  capable  of  experiencing  joy 
of  the  loftiest  kind. 

The  narrative  reveals  to  us  no  sign  of  impatience 
on  the  part  of  the  father.  However  great  the  trial, 
he  kept  it  to  himself.  The  dull,  heavy,  constant  pain 
in  his  heart  made  him  silent,  after  the  first  wild  burst 
in  which  he  had  poured  out  all  the  longing  and  sor- 
row of  his  soul.  But,  while  Jesus  was  yet  speaking 
to  the  woman,  there  came  messengers  from  the  ruler 
of  the  synagogue's  house,  saying  to  him,  **  Thy 
daughter  is  dead  ;  why  troublest  thou  the  Master 
any  further  .'* "  They  believed  that  it  was  too  late 
now  to  do  any  good.  There  was  no  use  in  Jesus 
fatiguing  Himself  with  a  journey  which  could  only 
end  in  bitter  disappointment.  They  believed  that 
Jesus  could  save  from  death,  but  they  could  not  rise 
to  the  higher  faith  that  He  could  save  in  death.  He 
could  fan,  they  knew,  from  the  analogy  of  other  mir- 
acles which  He  had  wrought,  the  last  expiring  embers 
of  hfe  into  a  flame  ;  but  they  had  no  foundation  for 
expecting  that  He  could  rekindle  the  spark  of  life 
when  it  had  gone  out  in  darkness  altogether.     And 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  47 

Jairus  would  have  shared  their  hopelessness  had  not 
Jesus  interfered  before  nature  gave  way.  As  soon  as 
the  dreadful  tidings  of  his  bereavement  came,  and 
before  any  doubts  could  arise  in  his  heart,  the  pre- 
venting mercies  of  Jesus  preoccupied  him.  Just  as 
He  stretched  out  His  hand  to  Peter  amid  the  wild 
waters  of  Gennesaret,  so  here  the  Master  stretched 
out  His  almighty  arm  to  uphold  the  poor  father  as  he 
was  sinking  in  the  pitiless  calamity,  and  all  its  bitter 
waves  were  about  to  close  over  him.  "  Fear  not, 
only  believe,  and  she  shall  live,"  In  His  anxiety  to 
prevent  the  extinction  of  that  faith,  without  which 
the  miracle  of  restoration  could  not  be  wrought.  He 
fulfilled  the  words  of  the  prophet,  "And  it  shall  come 
to  pass,  before  they  call  I  will  answer,  and  while  they 
are  yet  speaking  I  will  hear."  And  does  not  this  an- 
ticipating of  the  paralyzing  effect  of  the  tidings  upon 
the  father,  and  preventing  it  beforehand  by  a  word  of 
confidence  and  encouragement,  rebuke  the  thoughts 
we  sometimes  cherish  of  God,  as  if  He  were  a  jealous 
oriental  despot,  one  who  must  have  all  His  titles  of 
honor  or  He  will  not  hear  us,  His  full  tale  of  impor- 
tunity or  He  will  not  answer  }  It  is  not  when  we 
pour  out  our  souls  in  strong  crying  and  tears  that 
His  interest  in  us  and  work  for  us  begins.  It  is  be- 
fore we  have  realized  our  need,  and  when  we  know 
nothing  of  the  help  which  He  brings,  that  He  comes 
by  all  the  agencies  of  His  love  to  heal  and  comfort 


48  TFIKEE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

US.  It  was  when  Adam  hid  himself  from  God  thai 
God  sought  him  ;  it  was  Jehovah  Himself  who,  when 
He  saw  us  ruined  and  undone  by  sin,  devised  means 
whereby  His  banished  ones  might  be  brought  back 
to  Him.  The  marvellous  plan  of  mercy  sprung  from 
His  own  bosom  ;  and  this  not  only  before  repentance 
or  sorrow  for  sin  had  been  displayed  by  man,  but 
even  before  he  fell.  And  this  preventing  mercy  of 
God,  which  is  so  precious  a  feature  in  the  salvation 
of  the  Gospel,  is  a  most  comforting  and  supporting 
element  in  all  the  trials  of  life.  As  soon  as  the  tid- 
ings of  woe  come,  so  soon  does  the  Comforter  gra- 
ciously preoccupy  our  minds  and  hearts  with  the 
consolations  of  grace.  Did  Jairus  believe  the  words 
of  hope  }  Did  he  trust  in  the  Power  he  had  be- 
sought to  help  him  in  his  extremity.?  We  do  not 
know }  perhaps  he  himself  did  not  know.  He  was 
stunned  for  the  moment  by  the  blow  that  had  fallen 
upon  him  ;  or  he  was  in  that  painful  state  of  conflict 
in  which  the  mind,  still  cherishing  some  prospect  of 
deliverance,  cannot  on  that  account  fully  arm  itself 
with  patience,  nor  centre  itself  in  submission.  The 
throbbings  and  pulsations  of  a  feverish  hope  disturb 
the  calm  effects  which  one  absorbing  object,  however 
distressing  —  which  the  acquiescence  in  his  daugh- 
ter's death  —  would  naturally  have  produced.  But 
Jesus  left  His  words,  like  seeds  of  hope,  to  germinate 
and  develop  their  fulness  of  meaning  in  his  heart,  as 


yAIKUS'  DAUGHTER.  49 

silently  they  hurried  on  together  towards  the  dark- 
ened home. 

Steinmeyer  places  at  this  point  our  Lord's  full  rec- 
ognition of  what  He  had  to  do  in  this  case.  It  was 
merely  to  cure  a  sick  child  that  He  had  set  out  on 
His  journey.  He  had  not  intended  to  raise  the 
daughter  of  Jairus  from  the  dead,  but  to  preserve 
her  from  dying.  He  did  not  here,  as  in  the  case  of 
Lazarus,  in  which  the  glory  of  God  was  to  be  spe- 
cially shown  by  a  raising  from  the  dead,  deliberately 
put  off  his  departure  until  death  had  actually  oc- 
curred ;  for  an  awakening  from  the  dead  was  not,  as 
then,  His  aim  and  end  in  the  present  case.  He  ac- 
companied the  father  at  once,  when  He  was  told  of 
the  serious  illness  of  his  daughter  ;  and  He  did  not 
intentionally  linger  on  the  way  ;  the  delay  that  oc- 
curred being  unavoidable,  caused  by  a  cure  which 
was  in  a  manner  thrust  upon  Jesus,  and  could  not 
therefore  be  postponed.  But,  owing  to  this  delay, 
the  deadly  sickness  of  the  child  proved  unto  death. 
Being  what  He  was,  it  is  obvious  that  He  could  not 
turn  back  at  this  stage,  and  disappoint  the  hopes 
which  He  had  raised,  and  leave  the  poor  father  in  his 
despair,  lifted  up  by  expectation  only  to  be  cast  down 
into  a  deeper  abyss  of  gloom  than  before.  He  could 
not  acknowledge  that  His  power  was  limited  by 
death,  as  the  father  and  the  messengers  supposed. 
He  had  come  to  give  help,  and  He  could  not  be  pre- 
4 


50  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

vented  from  doing  so  by  any  hindrance,  not  even  by 
the  greatest.  What  He  had  resolved  upon  and  prom- 
ised should  be  carried  through,  even  though  death 
itself  stood  in  the  way.  This,  then,  was  the  motive 
which  constrained  him  to  perform  the  miracle.  His 
raising  of  the  dead  was  not  an  arbitrary,  capricious 
act.  It  was  extremely  rare  ;  and  in  each  case  He  had 
the  most  powerfully  constraining  motives  to  induce 
Him  to  perform  it.  We  see  in  the  present  example 
the  full  nature  of  the  necessity  laid  upon  Him.  We 
see  how  naturally,  by  the  very  force  of  circumstances 
themselves,  the  supreme  miracle  was  the  direct  con- 
sequence of  His  previously  declared  readiness  to  per- 
form the  inferior  cure.  And  we  have  in  this  circum- 
stance itself  a  most  beautiful  and  convincing  proof 
of  the  genuineness  of  the  miracle. 

Hitherto  Jesus  had  allowed  the  multitude  to  ac- 
company Him.  Their  presence  did  not  disturb  the 
serene  composure  of  His  spirit  ;  and  it  was  provi- 
dentially appointed  as  one  of  the  mechanical  condi- 
tions for  drawing  out  the  faith  of  the  woman  with 
the  issue  of  blood,  giving  an  opportunity  for  its 
practical  exercise,  and  thus  leading  to  her  wonderful 
cure.  But  now,  when  the  messengers  reported  the 
death  of  Jairus'  daughter,  and  He  knew  that  the 
work  before  Him  was  not  a  curing  of  the  sick  but  a 
raising  of  the  dead,  He  suffered  no  man  to  follow 
Plim.     St.  Mark  tells  us  that  He  dismissed  the  mul- 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  5  I 

titiide  immediately  after  the  sad  tidings  came  to  Him  ; 
and  we  infer  that  He  walked  the  remaining  distance 
to  the  house  accompanied  only  by  the  father  and  the 
messengers  and  His  own  disciples.  The  nature  of 
the  work  before  Him  required  that  it  should  be  done 
in  a  stillness,  with  which  the  presence  of  a  rude 
crowd  would  have  been  incompatible  ;  and,  with  a 
thoughtful  consideration  for  what  was  becoming  to 
the  occasion,  He  would  not  bring  a  multitude  of 
strangers,  moved  only  by  curiosity,  even  to  the  out- 
side of  the  house  of  death. 

When  they  reached  the  house,  they  found  it  full  of 
hired  minstrels  and  neighbors  who  had  come  in  to 
join  them,  who  were  all  beating  upon  their  breast 
and  wailing  and  lamenting  the  dead.  The  most 
marked  feature  of  oriental  mourning  was  its  studied 
publicity.  There  was  none  of  that  sacred  reticence 
and  solemn  retirement  which  characterize  the  usages 
of  western  and  modern  nations.  All  the  ceremonies 
appropriate  to  the  occasion  were  carefully  prescribed 
and  observed  ;  and  their  observance  often  made  the 
house  of  mourning  a  scene  of  tumult  and  uproar. 
This  ostentatious  mercenary  grief  was  peculiarly  dis- 
tasteful to  Jesus.  He  rebuked  it,  and  said,  "  Why 
make  ye  this  ado,  and  weep.^"  Not  that  the  expres- 
sion of  sorrow  was  in  itself  unwarrantable,  or  that  He 
would  have  us  refuse  to  weep  with  those  that  weep  ; 
far  otherwise  ;    but  the  loud  demonstrative  grief  of 


52  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

the  friends,  and  the  affected  mechanical  lamentation 
of  the  hired  mourners,  who  had  no  sense  of  sorrow 
or  loss,  disturbed  the  calm  repose  and  solemn  quiet- 
ness which  ought  to  characterize  the  house  of  death. 
Wishing  to  be  left  in  peace,  He  said,  "  Give  place, 
for  the  maid  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth."     Some  com- 
mentators regard  these  words  as  a  distinct  and  ex- 
plicit declaration  that  death  had  not  absolutely  taken 
place  ;  and  therefore  they  do  not  allow  the  raising  of 
Jairus'  daughter  to  be  numbered  among  the  true  mir- 
acles of  resuscitation  from  the  dead.    They  look  upon 
the  little  maid  as  being  only  in  a  deep  trance,  a  spe- 
cies of  catalepsy  in  which  life  had  descended  to  the 
lowest  point  ;  and  they  consequently  regard  the  mir- 
acle as  only  a  healing  of  the  deadly  disease  which 
had  thrown   her  into  this   death-like   sleep.     There 
were  no  external  signs,  indeed,  to  indicate  that  she 
was  still  alive  ;  all  breath  and  motion  had  ceased  ;  all 
the   vital   functions    seemed   suspended  ;    but  Jesus 
knew  that  in  her  case  the   real   moment   of  death, 
which  man  can  never  ascertain,  had  not  yet  arrived. 
And  this  knowledge,  which  He  possessed  both  before 
He  came  to  the  house  and  while  in  it,  and  to  which 
He  gave  expression  in  the  words,  '^  She  is  not  dead, 
but   sleepeth,"   constituted   the   principal  miraculous 
element  in  the  act  of  restoration.     To  this  gratuitous 
assumption,  however,  the  whole  force  of  the  narrative, 
as  it  appears  to  me,  is  opposed.     Those  who  put  it 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  53 

forward  declare  that  they  do  so  as  the  only  escape 
from  attributing  to  Jesus  a  manifest  untruth,  if  He 
said  that  the  daughter  of  Jairus  was  only  sleeping 
while  she  was  actually  dead.  But,  by  seeking  to  clear 
Him  from  that  supposed  falsehood,  they  virtually  im- 
pute to  Him  a  series  of  falsehoods.  They  vindicate 
the  truth  of  His  lips,  in  a  single  expression,  by  im- 
pugning the  truth  and  consistency  of  His  whole 
character  and  conduct.  What  did  His  word  of  en- 
couragement to  the  father,  when  the  tidings  came  to 
him  that  the  spirit  of  his  child  had  fled,  imply,  if  the 
maiden  was  not  actually  dead  1  Was  it  not  based  upon 
the  certainty  of  that  death }  Would  He  have  left 
Jairus  to  suppose  that  his  daughter  was  dead  if  she 
was  all  the  time  alive  1  Would  He  have  comforted 
him  as  one  who  is  in  bitterness  for  an  only  child,  if 
his  daughter  was  only  in  a  death-like  asphyxia,  from 
which  she  might  speedily  awaken  }  Had  Jesus  known 
that  the  child's  life  was  still  lingering  in  the  socket, 
and  yet  concealed  the  fact,  and  spoken  to  Jairus  in 
words  that  took  for  granted  her  death,  and  summoned 
him  to  put  his  trust  in  that  Almighty  Power  to  whom 
the  issues  from  death  belonged.  He  must  have  been 
guilty  of  a  species  of  subterfuge  or  prevarication,  the 
thought  of  which  we  cannot  for  a  moment  entertain 
regarding  Him  who  was  holy,  harmless,  undefiled, 
and  separate  from  sinners.  As  for  the  difficulty  sup- 
posed to  be  involved  in  the  words  "  She  is  not  dead, 


54  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

but  sleepeth,"  it  will  vanish  at  once  when  looked  at 
from  the  proper  point  of  view.  These  words  were 
not  meant  t-o  be  understood  literally.  They  are  in 
entire  harmony  with  the  words  which  He  afterwards 
uses  regarding  Lazarus,  when  he  was  not  only  dead 
but  buried,  and  with  the  poetical  ideas  regarding 
death  as  a  sleep  in  common  use  among  all  nations. 
Our  Lord  did  not  deny  that  the  maiden  was  really 
dead  ;  but  He  intimated  that  as  the  awakening  in  the 
morning  follows  the  sleep  of  the  night,  so  this  death 
would  be  followed  by  an  immediate  resurrection. 
The  little  maiden  was  only  sleeping  so  far  as  the  issue 
was  concerned,  for  she  would  be  speedily  aroused. 
And  He  who  was  about  to  raise  her,  and  whose  inten- 
tion must  ever  be  regarded  as  equivalent  to  an  accom- 
plished fact,  would  not  call  her  brief  visit  to  the  silent 
land  by  the  dark  awful  name  of  death,  but  by  the 
sweet  name  of  a  slumber.  Sleep  is  but  a  brief  death, 
less  deep,  and  the  world  of  dreams  is  but  a  less  happy 
heaven.  Besides  all  this,  it  is  distinctly  said  by  St. 
Luke  that  "  her  spirit  came  again,"  when  Jesus  re- 
stored her  —  words  which  obviously  necessitate  the 
previous  fact  that  an  absolute  separation  between 
soul  and  body  had  taken  place.  They  are  precisely 
the  same  words  as  those  used  regarding  the  resuscita- 
tion of  the  widow  of  Zarephath's  son,  which  no  wor- 
thy  commentator  hesitates  to  believe  was  an  actual 
raising  from  the  dead. 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  55 

Spinosa,  the  celebrated  philosopher,  said  that  if  the 
reality  of  the  miracle  of  raising  Lazarus  from  the 
grave  could  be  demonstrated,  he  would  abandon  his 
unbelief  and  become  a  Christian,  But  the  reality  of 
the  miracle  cannot  be  proved  by  the  kind  of  evidence 
which  he  demanded.  If  any  keen-eyed  critic  were 
to  examine  the  proofs  of  the  miracle  of  the  restora- 
tion of  Jairus'  daug-hter,  as  the  Evangelists  have  re- 
corded  it,  and  were  to  come  to  the  conclusion  that, 
as  far  as  we  are  enabled  to  judge,  there  was  nothing 
in  it  that  might  not  have  been  accomplished  by  any 
ordinary  physician  ;  that  it  was"  simply  the  restora- 
tion of  a  case  of  catalepsy  such  as  not  unfrequently 
occurs  in  ordinary  experience,  in  which  there  was  a 
remarkable  coincidence  between  the  words  of  Christ 
and  the  natural  termination  of  the  trance  ;  that  there 
was  no  such  testing  of  the  reality  of  death  and  of 
the  whole  process  of  resuscitation  such  as  the  scien- 
tific men  of  this  day  would  apply,  and  that  therefore 
.this  incident  is  a  very  insufficient  basis  upon  which 
to  build  the  supernatural  claims  of  Christ  or  our  own 
hopes  of  victory  over  death  ;  it  would  be  reasonable 
to  admit  that  all  this  is  true.  Our  Lord  did  not  on 
this  occasion  give  the  proofs  which  unbelief  or  even 
honest  science  might  have  asked.  It  would  have 
been  very  easy  for  Him  in  the  presence  of  the  by- 
standers, first  to  put  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt 
the  fact  that  the  little  maiden  was  dead,  and  then  to 


56  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

go  on  to  perform  the  miracle  in  such  a  way  as  to 
produce  irresistible  conviction.  But  nothing  of  the 
sort  was  done.  The  conduct  of  Jesus  on  this  and 
all  occasions  of  a  similar  kind  was  not  that  of  one 
making  supernatural  pretensions,  and  submitting 
them  to  the  rigid  investigation  of  the  incredulous. 
He  did  not  present  Himself  to  men  as  a  mere 
miracle-worker  desiring  to  have  his  claims  investi- 
gated, and  there  is  no  attempt  made  by  Him  to  use 
His  miracles  as  evidence  after  our  fashion.  He 
spoke  with  authority  to  the  hearts  and  consciences 
of  men,  and  claimed  a  spiritual  faith  and  obedience. 
In  no  case  can  we  deal  with  the  miracles  of  Christ 
as  we  should  deal  with  the  more  evident  forces  of 
the  material  world,  making  experiments  upon  them 
with  the  necessary  scientific  precautions,  testing 
them,  measuring  them,  and  tabulating  their  results. 
We  can  never  get  such  proof  as  that ;  and  in  the 
miracle  before  us,  as  in  all  the  miracles,  we  are  left 
to  feel  that  the  best  guarantee  we  can  have  of  good 
faith  is  to  be  found  in  the  perfect  character  of 
our  Lord  Himself.  We  believe  in  His  own  Divine 
truthfulness  and  candor  first,  and  then  we  believe 
in  His  works,  however  astonishing,  for  His  sake. 
And  surely  in  the  case  of  Jairus*  daughter  every- 
thing is  so  transparently  simple  and  open,  so  per- 
fectly consistent  with  what  we  know  of  Christ's 
holiness,  wisdom,  and  love,  that  we  cannot  possibly 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  57 

come  to  any  other  conclusion  than  that  which  is 
expressed  in  the  belief  of  all  the  Christian  ages,  that 
this  was  indeed  a  genuine  example  of  restoration 
from  death. 

The  words  of  Jesus,  "  Why  make  ye  this  ado  and 
weep,  she  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth,"  seemed  to  have 
had  a  twofold  purpose  to  serve.  They  were  meant 
to  strengthen  the  hope  and  encourage  the  faith  of 
the  father,  which  were  ready  to  die  when  all  the 
dread  sights  and  sounds  of  woe  in  his  house  made 
real  to  him  the  loss  which  before  he  had  only  half- 
believed.  Jesus  uses  over  again  His  former  words 
of  encouragement  in  a  new  form  suited  to  the  altered 
circumstances.  He  said  at  a  distance,  "  Be  not  afraid, 
only  believe,"  but  now,  in  the  presence  of  death  He 
says,  "  She  is  not  dead,  but  sleepeth."  He  takes 
away  the  word  of  despair,  and  substitutes  the  word 
of  hope.  This  death  is  a  Shechinah  cloud  ;  it  is  a 
pillar  of  darkness  to  sense,  but  a  pillar  of  light  to 
faith  ;  and,  if  only  his  tottering  faith  can  hold  on  for 
a  few  minutes  longer,  the  Shechinah  cloud  will  dis- 
close to  him  its  heavenly  brightness,  and  the  shadow 
of  death  will  be  turned  into  the  morning.  And  the 
same  gracious  words  were  also  designed-  to  test  the 
spiritual  susceptibility  of  the  people  in  the  house. 
Veiling  His  intention  in  a  phrase  capable  of  a  double 
signification.  He  would  prove  them  whether  they  had 
discernment  enough  to  penetrate  His  purpose,  and 


58  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

faith  enough  to  beUeve  in  His  power  to  raise  the 
dead ;  and  were  thus  worthy  to  behold  a  wonder 
which  could  only  be  revealed  to  the  meek  and  the 
spiritually-minded.  Whether  Jairus  was  comforted 
by  the  words,  we  know  not,  but  they  failed  to  pro- 
duce the  proper  impression  upon  the  crowd  of  turbu- 
lent mourners.  They  were  to  them  words  of  utter 
foolishness.  They  knew  that  the  maiden  was  dead  ; 
their  presence  in  the  house  was  a  proof  of  that  fact 
which  could  not  be  gainsaid  ;  and  who  was  this  un- 
known and  presumptuous  stranger  who  dared  to 
insinuate  that  they  wxre  mistaken,  that  they  were 
practising  a  deceit  or  a  mockery,  and  keeping  up 
a  mere  empty  ceremony  1  "  They  laughed  Him  to 
scorn." 

Pie  who  had  calmed  the  wild  waves  in  their  great- 
est fury  by  His  will  a  short  time  before,  could  not 
hush  the  boisterous  grief  or  the  swelling  unbelief  of 
human  hearts  that  had  no  hope.  The  senseless 
waves  yielded  instant  homage  to  Him,  but  the  souls 
whom  He  had  made  rose  up  in  rebellion  against 
Him,  and  disowned  His  power,  and  ridiculed  His 
words.  And,  therefore,  as  He  cast  out  those  who 
profaned  the  temple  by  their  unhallowed  traffic,  so 
He  now  cast  out  those  who  profaned  the  house  of 
sorrow  by  their  hired  lamentations  and  sordid  sym- 
pathy. They  were  out  of  keeping  with  a  place 
which  was  soon  to  be  a  scene  of  life  and  not  death ; 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  59 

they  were  unworthy  to  witness  the  awful  and  holy 
mystery  which  was  about  to  happen.  Had  they  not 
laughed  the  Lord  of  life  to  scorn,  they  might  have 
been  permitted  to  behold  a  sight,  which  would  have 
enabled  them  to  laugh  death  to  scorn  when  their 
own  time  came  to  die.  But  they  had  none  of  the 
true  tone  and  temper  which  became  the  transcend- 
ent revelation  ;  and  therefore  Jesus  put  them  all 
out,  and  restored  appropriate  quietness  and  silence  to 
the  chamber  of  death.  He  suffered  none  to  go  in 
with  Him,  save  the  father  and  mother  of  the  maiden 
and  three  of  His  disciples,  Peter,  James,  and  John  ; 
the  same  three  who  on  more  than  one  later  occasion 
were  elected,  on  account  of  their  stronger  faith  and 
more  devoted  love,  to  be  witnesses  of  things  con- 
cealed from  the  others.  Jesus  had  now  entered 
upon  a  new  era  of  more  wonderful  manifestations  of 
sorrow  and  joy,  of  which  this  miracle  of  restoration 
from  the  dead  was  the  first  and  typical  incident ;  and, 
for  those  revelations  of  higher  mysteries,  only  the 
disciples  who  were  in  closest  communion  with  Him, 
and  who  had  imbibed  most  of  His  spirit,  were  fitted. 
Not  to  the  general  band  even  of  those  who  had 
forsaken  all  and  followed  Him,  but  to  the  election 
within  the  election,  did  He  make  known  the  exceed- 
ing riches  of  His  power  and  grace.  Only  to  those 
who  stood  nearest  to  the  passive  object  and  the  ac- 
tive subject,  who  had  the  dearest  interest  in  the  dead 


6o  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

child  and  the  living  Saviour  ;  only  to  the  parents  and 
the  three  most  loving  of  all  the  disciples  was  the 
wonderful  revelation  given.  To  those  whom  He  thus 
selected  to  accompany  Him  into  the  room  where  the 
dead  maiden  lay,  He  imparted  something  of  His  own 
calmness  and  serenity  of  demeanor ;  and  the  quiet 
self-possession  of  His  spirit,  combined  with  the  sym- 
pathizing kindness  of  His  manner,  and  His  well- 
known  reputation  for  power  and  wisdom,  must  have 
helped  to  reassure  the  failing  hearts  of  those  whom 
He  came  to  comfort,  and  to  make  them  feel  that  they 
stood  in  the  presence  of  One  able  and  willing  to  save 
to  the  uttermost. 

This  exclusion  of  the  false,  hired  mourners,  who 
had  presumed  to  ridicule  Him,  and  His  selection  of 
the  true  mourners,  who  had  reverenced  Him — the 
parents  of  the  dead  child  and  the  three  disciples  most 
distinguished  for  the  fervor  and  silent  depth  of  their 
character  —  shows  how  consistently  Christ  acted 
upon  His  own  advice,  not  to  give  that  which  is  holy 
unto  dogs,  nor  to  cast  pearls  before  swine.  His  con- 
duct in  the  house  of  Jairus  was  of  a  piece  with  His 
conduct  at  Nazareth,  where  He  would  not  do  many 
mighty  works  on  account  of  the  unbelief  of  the  in- 
habitants, and  with  His  silence  before  Pilate,  who 
asked  Him  questions  out  of  mere  curiosity,  and  who, 
had  He  answered  him,  would  have  laughed  at  the 
solemn  sanctions  of  His  faith  as  the  mere  vulgar 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  6 1 

ethics  of  a  Nazarene.  And  it  teaches  us  the  needed 
lesson  that  the  subhme  truths  of  our  rehgion,  and 
the  sacred  experiences  of  our  individual  Christian 
life,  are  not  to  be  presented  rashly  and  indiscrimi- 
nately, or  proclaimed  to  the  sensual  and  the  profane, 
when  it  is  evident  that  no  effect  will  be  produced  but 
to  excite  their  scorn  and  contempt.  The  prevalent 
feeling  that  religious  truth  should  be  published  every- 
where, and  before  all,  without  regarding  the  suitable- 
ness of  time  and  place  and  audience,  is  at  variance 
with  the  dignity  of  the  Gospel  and  the  example  of 
Christ.  We  are  indeed  commanded  to  preach  the 
Gospel  to  every  creature,  and  to  be  instant  in  season 
and  out  of  season  ;  but  we  are  at  the  same  time  en- 
joined to  turn  away  from  those  who  show  themselves 
unmistakably  to  be  blasphemers  and  despisers,  who 
would  use  the  things  that  are  dearest  and  most 
sacred  to  our  hearts  to  give  point  to  an  unhallowed 
jest,  or  force  to  an  imprecation.  Every  Christian  is 
placed  in  circumstances  in  which  he  can  only  take 
with  him  a  select  few,  who  have  the  teachable  spirit 
which  gives  the  promise  of  the  seed  being  received 
into  honest  and  good  hearts,  into  the  holy  place 
where  He  reveals  the  deep  things  of  God  ;  and  must 
shut  the  door  upon  those  who,  by  a  fixed  course  of 
bold  and  daring  blasphemy,  or  by  a  brutal  sensuality, 
have  hardened  themselves  against  the  entrance  of 
the  truth.     The  Church  cuts  off  from  its  communion 


62  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

those  whose  impenitent  wickedness  would  profane 
its  holy  sacraments.  We  are  not,  indeed,  to  exclude 
unrenevvedness  of  heart,  or  the  mere  opposition  of 
the  natural  mind  to  religion  ;  for  in  that  case  we 
should  never  proclaim  the  Gospel  to  any  mixed  as- 
sembly at  all  ;  and  that  state  may  be  repented  of, 
and  such  persons  be  converted  and  saved.  But  we 
have  no  right,  for  the  sake  of  any  hypothetical  or  im- 
probable issue  of  good,  to  fling  the  Gospel  again  at 
the  feet  of  those  who  have  already  received  it  only 
to  pollute  it,  as  dogs  would  the  holy  sacrifices  of  the 
temple,  or  to  trample  it  under  foot  as  swine  would 
pearls.  And  if  this  rejection  of  the  persistent  scoffer 
and  the  hardened  infidel  who  will  not  listen  should 
circumscribe  our  sphere  of  labor,  there  are  thousands 
now  perishing  for  lack  of  knowledge  who  will  wel- 
come the  glad  tidings  of  salvation  ;  and  "  we  shall 
not  have  gone  over  all  the  field  that  is  open  to  us 
legitimately  before  the  Son  of  Man  has  come  to  sum- 
mon us  from  our  labors," 

And  now  Jesus  stands  beside  the  bed,  whereon 
reposes  the  marble-like  form  of  the  little  maiden, 
whose  fair  sunny  life  death  has  quenched  with  his 
cold  kiss.  The  pale  lily-like  hands  are  crossed  on 
the  still  bosom,  and  the  dark  curls  cluster  motionless 
around  the  wasted  cheek,  like  the  shadow  of  a  cloud 
on  a  wreath  of  snow.  It  is  a  well-known  and  yet  an 
unknown  face,  so  heavenly  beautiful  that  it  seems 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  63 

less  like  a  human  corpse  than  that  fair  shape  in 
which  a  dead  hope  has  clothed  itself  :  — 

"Just  so  young  but  yesternight, 
Now  she  is  as  old  as  death  ; 
Much  obedient  in  your  sight, 
Gentle  to  a  look  or  breath. 

"  Only  on  last  Monday,  yours, 
Answering  you  like  silver-bells 
Lightly  touched  —  an  hour  matures, 
Yoii  can  teach  her  nothing  else. 

"  Cross  her  quiet  hands,  and  smooth 
Down  her  patient  locks  of  silk, 
Cold  and  passive  as  in  truth 
You  your  fingers  in  spilt  milk 

"Drew  along  a  marble  floor; 
But  her  lips  you  cannot  wring 
Into  saying  a  word  more, 
Yes  !  or  No  !  —  or  such  a  thing. 

"  Though  you  call  and  beg  and  wreak 
Half  your  soul  out  in  a  shriek, 
She  will  lie  there  in  default 
And  most  innocent  revolt." 

If  this  be  death,  then  is  death  the  image  of  sleep, 
perfect  heavenly  sleep.  Gazing  upon  such  a  beloved 
face,  on  whose  lips  the  departing  spirit  has  left  its 
smile,  we  cannot  think  the  thing  death.  We  have 
a  spontaneous,  irresistible  feeling  that  the  form  lying 
there  is  not  the  child  or  friend  that  we  knew  and 


64  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   I  HE  DEAD. 

loved.  The  old  familiar  look,  the  true  likeness,  it 
may  be,  of  years  ago,  that  was  obliterated  by  wasting 
pain  and  weary  illness,  has  reappeared  in  perfect 
calmness  and  ideal  beauty,  but  it  does  not  produce 
the  effect  of  our  loved  one's  living  presence  upon  us. 
We  have  the  form  unchanged,  and  every  feature  of 
the  face  the  same,  but  we  miss  the  personality.  The 
visible  presence  only  makes  more  vivid  the  sense  of 
actual  absence.  We  had  often  before  watched  our 
beloved  ones  in  sleep  or  in  a  swoon,  and  had  seen 
the  eye  as  firmly  closed,  and  the  limbs  as  motionless, 
and  the  breath  as  imperceptible,  and  the  face  as  fixed 
and  expressionless  ;  but  we  never  had  the  peculiar 
sensation  which  we  have  now.  And  this  indefinable 
impression  that  our  beloved  one  is  not  there,  that  we 
are  gazing  upon  a  mere  relinquished  garment,  a 
shrine  in  which  service  is  over,  the  chanting  hushed 
and  the  aisle  deserted,  is  an  instinct  for  which  we 
cannot  account,  but  which  is  universally  recognized, 
and  is  one  of  the  strongest  and  most  satisfactory  of 
all  proofs  of  the  life  that  survives  death. 

Through  the  hushed  stillness  the  wailing  of  the 
hired  mourners  is  heard  outside,  while  the  mother's 
head  is  bowed  down  on  the  body  of  her  dead  child, 
and  the  form  of  the  father  is  standing  near  quivering 
with  suppressed  sobs.  It  is  a  touching  sight,  famil- 
iar, alas  !  to  all  of  us,  on  which  the  disciples  gaze 
with  speechless  pity,  and  which  moves  to  the  quick 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  65 

the  tender  sensibility  of  Him  who  best  knows  what 
human  grief  is.  There  is  a  solemn  pause.  Jesus 
stands,  where  we  have  often  stood,  absorbed  in 
thought,  looking  down  upon  the  face  of  the  dead. 
He  knows  the  secrets  of  death  ;  and  perhaps  He  felt 
for  a  moment  rekictant  to  call  the  child  back  to  the 
sufferings  and  changes  of  earth,  when  her  spirit  had 
landed  safely  on  the  eternal  shore.  But  the  occasion 
is  too  solemn  for  speculation,  and  the  halo  of  Divine 
holiness  around  the  Saviour's  brow  forbids  us  to 
form  conjectures  regarding  what  is  passing  through 
His  mind.  Slowly  He  takes  in  His  own  the  unre- 
sisting hand  of  the  maiden,  so  pathetic  in  the  trans- 
parent thinness  ;  while  the  grief-struck  parents  are 
hushed  into  a  strange  expectant  awe.  He  does  not 
shrink  from  touching  the  dead,  although  such  con- 
tact was  forbidden  by  the  Jewish  law,  and  entailed 
upon  the  transgressor  ceremonial  death  and  exclu- 
sion from  the  fellowship  of  the  living.  In  this  inci- 
dent we  see  represented  the  immense  difference 
between  the  acts  of  Christ  as  a  Creator  and  a  Re- 
deemer. He  created  the  world  by  a  word.  He  said 
from  His  sublime  elevation  above  all  the  works  of 
His  hands,  "  Let  there  be  light."  But  as  the  Re- 
deemer of  the  lost  world,  He  had  to  come  into  clos- 
est contact  with  the  works  of  His  hands  ;  He  had 
to  assume  the  nature  which  He  had  formed,  to  be 
made  under  the  law  which  He  had  given,  to  incur 
5 


66  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

the  penalty  which  He  had  imposed.  He  had  to  take 
the  dead  body  of  humanity  by  the  hand,  and  die  in 
doing  so  the  shameful  and  painful  death  of  the  cross, 
before  He  could  restore  it  to  spiritual  and  eternal 
life.  And  we  must  further  consider  the  taking  of 
the  damsel  by  the  hand  as  an  outward  symbolical 
act,  indicating  that  only  by  the  inward  spiritual 
union  of  faith  between  the  soul  and  Christ  can  His 
life  overcome  its  death.  We  must  come  into  per- 
sonal individual  contact  with  Jesus.  We  must  touch 
Him,  else  He  will  not  cleanse  our  impurity  and  heal 
our  disease.  He  must  touch  us,  else  our  death  will 
not  be  changed  into  everlasting  life. 

Very  tender  is  the  word  in  which  Jesus  addresses 
the  dead  child,  as  if  she  were  still  living.  St.  Mark 
alone  records  the  original  Aramaic  expression,  "  Tal- 
itha  cumi,"  which  had  doubtless  been  indelibly  im- 
pressed upon  the  memory  of  St.  Peter,  from  whom 
St.  Mark,  who  was  his  special  friend  and  companion, 
must  have  obtained  it.  And  the  original  expression 
is  recorded,  because  it  cannot  be  translated  without 
losing  much  of  its  charm  and  significance.  It  con- 
tains a  term  of  endearment  derived  from  a  Syrian 
word  signifying  "  lamb,"  often  applied  by  fond  par- 
ents to  their  children.  It  is  as  if  the  Good  Shepherd 
had  said,  in  bringing  back  in  His  bosom  to  the  fold 
of  the  living,  this  lost  lamb  that  had  wandered  into 
the  land  of  forgetfulness,  "  My  little  lamb,  I  say  unto 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  6y 

thee,  arise."  It  was  no  mere  magic  formula,  no  in- 
cantation of  a  magician,  but  the  fond,  loving,  pitiful 
word  of  One  whose  human  heart  was  touched  by  the 
sight  of  so  much  innocence,  that  looked  like  one  of 
the  angels  of  His  own  heaven,  and  wrung  with  grief 
that  so  much  hope  and  beauty  should  have  been 
blighted  so  early  by  the  destroyer.  It  is  like  the  en- 
dearing untranslatable  word  "Abba,"  by  which  the 
believer  expresses  to  his  Heavenly  Father  his  child- 
like love  and  confidence.  And  how  sweet  is  the 
thought  that  we  can  sound  with  our  own  sinful  and 
polluted  lips  the  very  same  beautiful  words,  which 
fell  so  softly  and  tenderly  from  the  Saviour's  holy 
lips  beside  the  youthful  dead.  By  that  word  of  love, 
and  ihat  touch  of  power,  the  spirit  is  recalled  from 
the  everlasting  spring,  and  the  hills  of  myrrh,  to  the 
forsaken  tabernacle.  The  wave  of  life  rushes  back 
to  the  quiet  heart,  the  pulse  is  set  beating  anew  ;  a 
warm  glow  diffuses  itself  through  the  frame  and 
mantles  on  the  cheeks  and  lips.  Through  the  soft 
eyes  unsealed  and  vivified  the  soul  looks  out  in  inno- 
cent wonder,  and  the  fair  form  becomes  instinct  once 
more  with  life  and  health.  She  rises  from  her  couch 
as  from  a  profound  dreamless  sleep,  in  mute  aston- 
ishment at  the  strange  scene  around  her.  All  the 
feebleness  of  her  illness  is  gone,  for  St.  Mark  hi- 
forms  us  that  she  not  only  arose,  but  walked  ;  the 
whole  marvellous  scene,  with    all  its   details,  living 


68  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

after  long  years  in  the  mind  of  the  eye-witness,  who 
told  him  the  story.  The  old  life,  with  all  its  familiar 
associations  and  memories,  is  linked  on  with  the 
new,  and  the  dread  mysterious  interval  is  unknown 
or  forgotten.  The  sun  of  her  life  —  as  happens  in 
the  natural  world  on  the  borders  of  the  arctic  regions 
in  summer — just  dipped  below  the  horizon  for  a  ht- 
tle,  and  then  rose  again  ;  and  dawn  and  sunset  shone 
in  the  same  sky. 

It  was  an  unparalleled  display  of  Divine  power, 
and  our  Saviour  might  have  retired  immediately  in 
the  glory  of  the  miracle,  leaving  an  after-glow  of 
overwhelming  astonishment  and  awe  behind  Him. 
But  no  !  the  compassionate  Jesus  showed  not  only 
Divine  power  in  raising  the  dead,  but  also  human 
sympathy  with  the  weakness  of  the  living.  He  who 
was  touched  with  a  fellow-feeling  of  our  infirmities, 
who  hungered  after  His  long  fast  in  the  wilderness, 
and  thirsted  in  the  sultry  noon  beside  Sychar's  well, 
knew  that  the  frail  young  form  which  He  had  re- 
stored to  life  was  exhausted  with  long  abstinence  ; 
that  food,  for  which  after  recovery  from  fever  there 
is  an  inordinate  craving,  was  necessary  to  nourish 
and  strengthen  the  emaciated  body.  His  watchful 
eye  saw  the  feebleness  of  nature,  and  His  tender 
heart  prompted  the  relief,  "  He  commanded  to  give 
her  meat."  He  did  not  leave  this  duty  to  the  unas- 
sisted prompting  of  natural  affection,  not  even  to  the 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  69 

fine  and  delicate  instincts  of  a  mother's  love.  Car- 
ried away  by  the  first  impulses  of  astonishment  and 
delight  at  thus  unexpectedly  receiving  their  lost 
treasure  back  from  those  gates  of  death,  v^^hich  they 
had  never  before  seen  opening  outwards,  they  might 
have  forgotten  such  a  humble  and  commonplace 
necessity  as  the  allaying  of  hunger.  In  the  pres- 
ence of  such  a  great  joy  irradiating  heaven  and 
earth  for  them,  the  ordinary  wants  of  life  might 
appear  insignificant  and  incongruous.  Who  could 
think  of  descending  from  so  great  an  altitude  of 
wonder  and  rapture  all  at  once  to  the  preparing  and 
serving  of  meat  t  And  yet  here,  in  what  might 
seem  the  anti-climax  of  the  miracle,  we  see  most 
strikingly  displayed  the  key-stone  that  completes  it  ; 
we  see  the  superiority  of  the  Saviour's  love  over 
man's  love,  its  wonderful  thoroughness  and  minute- 
ness. It  is  perfect  love.  It  cannot  only  die  on  the 
cross  for  the  beloved  object,  but  it  can  stoop  to  wash 
its  feet.  It  cannot  only  work  a  stupendous  miracle 
in  its  behalf,  but  also  enter  into  its  humblest  bodily 
wants.  And  it  is  this  exquisite  blending  of  the  Di- 
vine and  the  human,  and  of  the  great  and  the  little, 
in  His  love  that  makes  Him  just  the  Friend  and  the 
Saviour  that  we  need. 

His  conduct  on  this  occasion  is  typical  of  all  that 
He  does  in  creation,  providence,  and  redemption. 
He  does  not  deal  in  generalities  ;  He  does  not  regard 


JO  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

things  merely  in  the  mass,  and  on  a  grand  scale,  but 
condescends  to  the  smallest  and  most  insignificant 
details.  He  not  only  decks  the  sky  with  all  the 
glories  of  sunrise  and  sunset,  and  the  starry  splen- 
dors of  midnight ;  but  also  paints  with  richest  beauty 
the  smallest  flower  that  blushes  unseen  in  the  desert. 
Not  only  does  He  clothe  the  monarch  mountain  that 
rises  nearest  to  heaven  with  a  regal  robe  of  purple 
light :  but  He  also  makes  a  scene  of  enchantment, 
by  the  combination  of  a  few  simple  elements,  in  the 
deepest  recess  of  the  wood  or  the  loneliest  nook  of 
the  valley.  From  the  eagle  whose  shadow  falls  like 
a  cloud  upon  the  Alpine  height,  to  the  blazoned  but- 
terfly that  hovers  like  a  winged  blossom  over  a  wild- 
flower  ;  from  man,  the  head  of  creation  and  heir  of 
all  the  ages,  to  the  minutest  animalcule  to  which  a 
drop  of  water  is  a  crystalline  world,  we  find  in  every 
link  of  that  great  life-series  the  most  abundant  and 
wonderful  proofs  of  God's  particular  attention  to  the 
least  of  His  works.  We  hear  it  said  that  the  Al- 
mighty is  concerned  in  the  grander  affairs  of  the 
world  —  the  revolutions  of  the  globe,  the  destinies 
of  nations  and  empires  —  while  the  more  local  and 
personal  events  are  regarded  as  mere  accidents  and 
chances  that  fall  beyond  the  province  of  His  control. 
When  shall  the  Saviour's  teaching  be  regarded  as  the 
true  and  only  philosophy  —  that  teaching  which 
shows  that  great  and  little  have  no  significance  tc 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  7 1 

God,  are  terms  merely  relative  to  man's  weakness 
and  finite  grasp  —  that  the  fall  of  the  sparrow  and 
the  numbering  of  the  hairs  of  our  head,  the  clothing 
of  the  grass  of  the  field  and  the  feeding  of  the  fowls 
of  the  air,  are  essential  parts  of  the  same  scheme 
which  includes  the  weighing  of  mountains  in  scales 
and  the  holding  of  the  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  His 
hand.  Our  daily  bread  comes  to  us  by  the  motion 
of  the  whole  universe ;  the  breeze  that  fans  an  in- 
fant's cheek  is  caused  by  the  revolution  of  the  globe  ; 
the  light  of  heaven  that  enables  a  child  to  read  its 
lesson-book  comes  from  a  distance  of  millions  of 
miles,  and  moves  at  the  rate  of  hundreds  of  thou- 
sands of  miles  a  minute.  The  mass  of  the  earth  is 
weighed  and  balanced  in  order  that  a  lily  may  bend 
its  head  to  effect  the  process  of  fertilization,  and  that 
the  blood  may  flow  through  our  veins,  and  our  lungs 
play  with  the  vital  air.  The  mightiest  and  minutest 
things  in  God's  providence  are  thus  intimately  asso- 
ciated and  correlated.  Throughout  the  life  of  Christ, 
He  showed  the  same  attention  to  the  small  and  mi- 
nute which  we  see  in  His  works  of  nature  and  provi- 
dence. Only  a  very  brief  portion  of  His  life  was 
spent  in  working  mighty  miracles  ;  by  far  the  larg- 
est part  of  it  was  lived  in  obscurity,  in  the  perform- 
ance of  humble  duties,  and  the  fulfillment  of  ordi- 
nary ends.  On  the  cross  dying  for  the  sins  of  the 
whole  world,  finishing  the  work  which  His   Father 


'J2  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

had  given  Him  to  do,  in  the  sight  of  all  heaven  and 
earth  and  hell,  He  commended  His  mother,  as  any- 
earthly  son  might  have  done,  to  the  care  of  the  disci- 
ple whom  He  loved.  In  the  grave,  when  achieving 
the  mightiest  of  all  triumphs  —  leading  captivity 
captive,  and  destroying  him  that  had  the  power  of 
death — He 'did  not  forget  in  the  exultation  of  vic- 
tory to  fold  carefully  the  linen  clothes  in  which  His 
dead  body  was  wrapped  —  those  green  withs  that 
bound  Him  in  His  Samson-like  sleep,  and  which  He 
broke  on  the  morning  of  His  resurrection,  as  a  thread 
of  tow  is  broken  when  it  toucheth  the  fire. 

And,  as  He  acted  in  His  own  historical  life,  so  He 
acts  in  the  individual  life  of  His  people.  There  is 
nothing  that  can  happen  to  them  that  is  beneath  His 
regard.  He  takes  a  particular  interest  in  their  per- 
sonal history,  and  in  every  circumstance  connected 
with  it.  His  covenant  not  only  includes  the  pardon 
of  their  sin  and  the  sanctification  of  their  nature, 
safety  from  the  terrors  of  a  violated  law,  rest  from 
the  accusations  of  a  guilty  conscience,  it  also  makes 
ample  provision  for  every  evil  that  can  possibly  befall 
them.  For  the  aching  head,  as  well  as  for  the  accus- 
ing conscience  ;  for  the  weary  care-worn  mind,  as 
well  as  for  the  sin-laden  soul.  He  provides  a  remedy 
and  a  relief.  For  the  hidden  want,  He  provides  the 
hidden  manna ;  for  the  trials  that  are  unspeakable, 
He  gives  the  strength  of  the  joy  that  is  unspeakable  ; 


JA/KUS'   DA  LIGHTER.  73 

for  the  crosses  that  cannot  be  displayed,  and  the 
groanings  that  cannot  be  uttered,  He  gives  the  peace 
which  passeth  all  understanding  ;  for  the  sorrow  with 
which  no  stranger  can  intermeddle,  He  gives  the 
sympathy  and  the  help  of  the  Friend  that  sticketh 
closer  than  a  brother.  We  do  not  know  Him  merely 
as  the  patient  knows  the  physician,  as  the  object  of 
charity  knows  the  benefactor,  as  the  pupil  knows  the 
teacher,  by  occasional  and  signal  benefits  ;  but  we 
know  Him  as  the  child  knows  its  mother,  not  only 
by  the  life  which  He  has  bestowed  upon  us,  and  by 
the  tender  natural  tie  which  thus  binds  us  to  Him, 
but  by  the  thousand  offices  of  tenderness  which  He 
continually  performs,  by  all  those  kind  familiar  acts 
often  repeated,  which,  though  little  in  themselves, 
imply  for  that  very  reason  that  the  agent  and  the 
object  must  unite  in  close  and  personal  contact,  by 
all  the  weakness  and  dependence  of  the  infancy  of 
our  spiritual  being,  hanging  upon  the  bosom  of  a 
love  that  passeth  knowledge.  To  Him  who  wrought 
the  mighty  miracle  of  our  salvation  we  can  go  not 
only  in  the  great  trials  and  crosses  of  our  life,  under 
which  we  lie  paralyzed  and  benumbed,  as  under  a 
stone  that  has  crushed  us  ;  but  also  with  those  fret- 
ting cares  and  petty  annoyances  and  numberless 
small  disappointments  and  vexations  which,  like  sand 
in  the  shoe,  irritate  and  inflame  the  Christian's  daily 
walk  in  the  world,  and  wear  out  by  their  incessant 


74  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

friction  the  sparkle  from  the  eye,  and  the  glow  from 
the  cheek,  and  the  elasticity  from  the  heart.  We 
can  go  to  Him  in  prayer,  pouring  out  our  whole  soul 
unreservedly,  keeping  back  nothing  ;  not  merely 
asking  Him  in  general  terms  for  general  spiritual 
blessings  of  which  at  the  moment  we  have  no  true 
apprehension,  and  for  which  we  have  no  true  longing, 
but  asking  Him  specially  for  relief  and  rest  from 
those  little  carking  cares  and  troubles  arising  from 
the  various  relations  of  common  life,  of  which  our 
mind  is  full  to  the  exclusion  of  more  important 
things,  and  which  sadly  interfere  with  the  spirit  of 
devotion  which  we  desire  to  cherish.  The  things  that 
bow  our  head  like  a  bulrush,  but  which  we  would  not 
breathe  to  a  fellow-creature  for  worlds,  lest  it  should 
excite  their  ridicule  or  contempt,  we  can  confide  fully 
and  freely  to  the  ear  of  Him  who  never  turned  away 
from  human  need,  however  insignificant,  even  in  His 
own  hour  of  agony  ;  and  who  not  only  raised  the 
daughter  of  Jairus  to  life,  but  commanded  meat  to 
be  given  to  her.  Do  not  say  that  such  common 
things  are  beneath  His  notice.  Those  who  are  wise 
in  their  own  eyes  may  object  that  it  is  degrading  to 
the  dignity  of  rehgion  ;  and  the  spiritual  in  their  own 
esteem  may  say  —  It  is  not  for  a  spiritual  man  to 
mention  such  things  :  he  is  or  should  be  above  them. 
But  this  is  not  Christ's  view  of  the  relation  between 
His  children  and  Himself.     "  Be  careful  for  nothingl' 


JAIRUS'  DAUGHTER.  75 

He  says,  "  but  in  everything,  by  prayer  and  supplica- 
tion, make  your  requests  known  unto  God."  "  What- 
soever ye  shall  ask  in  my  name,  t/iat  will  I  do."  The 
common  things  of  daily  life  are  the  aliment  on  which 
devotion  feeds  :  and  the  "  circumstances  with  which 
we  are  surrounded  are  as  fuel  and  oxygen,  supporting 
the  flame  of  ceaseless  prayer  which  transmutes  all 
substances  to  itself,  and,  like  the  fire  upon  the  altar, 
presents  the  whole  spirit  and  soul  and  body  a  living 
sacrifice  unto  God." 

The  command  of  Jesus  to  give  the  restored  child 
meat  was  intended,  we  may  suppose,  to  serve  several 
purposes  ;  to  supply  first  a  physical  want,  and  in  so 
doing  to  give  clear  unmistakable  proof  of  the  real- 
ity of  the  life  restored  to  perfect  health,  and  then  to 
calm  the  apprehensions  and  the  great  astonishment 
of  the  parents,  and  to  show  that  the  course  of  nat- 
ure, though  violently  interrupted  for  once,  must  be 
resumed  according  to  the  usual  order.  Jesus  de- 
scended from  the  region  of  the  supernatural  to  the 
region  of  ordinary  life,  from  the  working  of  a  mira- 
cle to  the  satisfying  of  a  commonplace  want.  And 
by  that  circumstance  He  teaches  us  the  important 
lesson,  that  the  spiritual  life  which  He  has  imparted 
by  Divine  power  must  be  sustained  by  human  means. 
This  is  in  entire  harmony  with  all  His  historical 
dealings  with  man.  The  dispensation  which  was  in- 
augurated by  supernatural  manifestations  is  carried 


76  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

on  by  common  helps,  and  through  the  homely  expe- 
riences of  human  life.  The  signs  and  wonders 
which  opened  a  new  era,  or  were  needed  to  produce 
faith  in  great  emergencies,  are  not  perpetuated  in  or- 
dinary circumstances.  The  creation  commenced 
with  a  stupendous  miracle,  but  it  is  preserved  by  the 
quiet  and  uniform  methods  of  nature.  The  law  of 
Moses,  which  was  given  amid  the  thunders  and  light- 
nings of  Sinai,  is  put  in  force  throughout  the  con- 
tinuous history  of  Israel  by  its  own  solemn  sanc- 
tions. The  Christianity,  which  first  took  its  place  in 
history  by  the  aid  of  astonishing  works  appealing  to 
the  senses,  now  maintains  its  position  by  its  own  un- 
obtrusive spiritual  power  among  a  society  more 
deeply  moved  by  spiritual  things.  The  gifts  of  Di- 
vine inspiration,  which  were  shown  objectively  to 
men  in  the  tongues  of  flame  and  the  mighty  rushing 
winds  of  Pentecost,  were  discontinued  when  the 
formative  work  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  all  places,  and 
in  all  hearts,  present  in  conscious  manifestation  to 
all  discerning  souls,  was  better  known.  What  is 
necessary  on  the  stage  of  initiation  disappears  from 
a  stage  of  a  fixed  institution.  The  morning  glow 
fades  into  the  common  light  of  day  ;  the  heavenly 
manna  of  the  desert  merges  into  the  corn  of  the 
cultivated  land.  And  so  is  it  with  our  spiritual  life 
individually.  The  transport  of  our  conversion,  when 
the  glory  of  heaven  came  down  to  earth,  is  not  in- 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  77 

definitely  continued.  Our  new  life  is  not  maintained 
and  increased  by  a  repetition  of  the  same  process  by 
which  it  was  awakened.  The  extraordinary,  appro- 
priate to  times  of  religious  excitement,  to  revival  or 
sacramental  seasons,  passes  into  the  ordinary  expe- 
rience. Jesus  commands  us  to  give  ourselves  com- 
mon meat.  We  are  to  strengthen  and  develop  the 
the  spiritual  life  that  has  been  produced  in  us  by 
supernatural  power,  and  quickened  by  the  extraor- 
dinary influences  of  a  special  season  of  grace,  by 
the  commonplace  duties  of  the  world,  by  the  labors 
of  our  ordinary  calling,  by  human  nature's  daily  food, 
by  the  perhaps  very  un spiritual  work  that  lies  near- 
est to  our  hand.  What  is  the  birth  of  a  remarka- 
ble occasion  must  become  the  habit  of  an  ordinary 
life,  if  it  is  not  to  fall  away  and  disappoint  expecta- 
tion. 

"  But  He  charged  them  that  they  should  tell  no 
man  what  was  done."  How  different  was  our  Lord's 
manner  towards  different  individuals  !  He  said  to 
the  demoniac  of  Gadara  a  little  while  before,  ''  Go 
home  to  thy  friends,  and  show  how  great  things  the 
Lord  hath  done  for  thee,  and  hath  had  compassion 
on  thee."  And  on  the  way  to  the  house  of  Jairus 
He  made  the  woman  whom  He  cured  confess  her 
disease  and  relief  before  all  the  people  ;  while  here, 
on  the  contrary,  He  strictly  forbids  all  mention  of 
the  wonderful  deliverance.     There  was  a  reason  for 


78  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

this  difference  of  treatment,  founded  not  so  much 
upon  the  circumstances  which  affected  Himself,  but 
upon  the  peculiarities  and  moral  condition  of  the 
persons  who  got  the  benefit  of  His  miracles.  The 
True  Light  that  lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into 
the  world,  gave  differently  colored  rays  according  to 
the  nature  of  the  medium  through  which  it  was 
transmitted.  We  have  seen  how  the  faith  of  the 
woman  with  the  issue  of  blood  was  perfected  by  con- 
fession. And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  com- 
mand to  the  demoniac  of  Gadara  to  proclaim  his 
cure,  must  have  been  in  the  highest  degree  benefi- 
cial to  such  a  melancholy  morbid  man,  shut  up  in 
himself,  and  shut  out  from  the  world,  introducing 
him  thus  into  the  society  of  his  fellow-creatures  and 
restoring  the  healthy  condition  of  his  soul ;  while 
those  who  could  not  endure  the  direct  teaching  of 
Christ  might  be  influenced  by  the  story  of  one 
whose  case  was  so  notorious,  and  who  was  left  be- 
hind in  all  the  glow  of  his  gratitude  and  devotion  as 
Christ's  minister  and  representative.  It  is  not  diffi- 
cult on  similar  grounds  to  understand  why  our  Lord 
should  have  enjoined  silence  upon  Jairus  and  his 
wife.  Of  course  the  outward  facts  of  the  miracle  ^ 
could  not  be  concealed  ;  they  were  known  to  too 
many  witnesses  to  render  that  possible.  But  it  is  ' 
evident  that  our  Lord  referred  not  to  the  outward 
circumstances  of  the  raising  from  the  dead,  but  to  its 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  79 

inward  nature  and  spiritual  design.  The  incident  is 
very  briefly  described,  but  a  thoughtful  mind  may 
receive  from  the  description  a  pretty  accurate  im 
pression  of  the  character  of  the  household.  It  i.^ 
true  that  Jairus  had  faith,  otherwise  he  would  not 
have  sought  the  help  of  Jesus,  and  the  miracle  would 
not  have  been  performed  ;  but  it  was  a  faith  that 
needed  to  be  encouraged  by  sensible  evidence,  which 
required  that  Christ  should  go  to  the  chamber  of  his 
daughter  and  lay  his  hands  on  her  ere  a  cure  could 
be  effected,  a  faith  which,  when  the  assurance  of  her 
death  came  to  him,  Christ  had  to  support  by  the 
comforting  words,  "  Be  not  afraid,  only  believe." 
The  presence  of  the  hired  mourners  in  the  house  in- 
dicated a  love  of  display,  a  dependence  upon  the 
sympathy  of  others  ;  for  although  a  national  custom 
it  was  not  always  observed,  and  in  cases  of  self-con- 
tained sorrow  it  was  dispensed  with  as  a  mockery. 
While  the  command  to  give  the  restored  daughter 
meat,  showed  that  Christ  regarded  the  parents  as 
persons  apt  to  be  carried  away  by  their  feelings,  to 
yield  to  the  passing  emotion,  and  thus  forget  duties 
of  the  most  vital  importance.  From  these  little 
traits  of  character  that  occur  in  the  course  of  the 
narrative,  we  learn  enough  of  the  disposition  of  Jai- 
rus and  his  wife  to  satisfy  us  that  the  injunction  to 
keep  silent  regarding  the  miracle  was  not  unneces- 
sary.    They  were  people  in  a  very  prominent  posi- 


8o  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

tion,  having  many  friends  and  acquaintances  ;  and  it 
is  evident  that  they  lived  much  in  society  and  loved 
an  outward  bustling  life.  They  were  not  medi- 
tative and  thoughtful,  but  evidently  outspoken,  im- 
pulsive, and  emotional./ There  was,  therefore,  great 
danger  to  their  spiritual  welfare,  considering  their 
circumstances  and  temperament  from  the  miracle. 
Their  public  position  exposed  them  to  the  visits  of 
inquisitive  friends,  eager  to  hear  all  the  particulars  of 
so  wonderful  an  event ;  their  own  disposition  would 
lead  them  to  speak  of  these  particulars,  to  dwell 
upon  each  detail ;  how  Jesus  looked,  and  what  He 
said  and  did,  and  how  they  themselves  felt,  and  how 
their  daughter  came  to  herself  and  recognized  them, 
and  how  joyful  they  were,  and  so  on.  And  in  thus 
going  over  again  and  again  all  the  outward  circum- 
stances, the  mere  story  of  the  miracle,  to  gratify  the 
curiosity  of  every  friend  who  called  or  whom  they 
met,  they  ran  a  great  risk  of  losing  sight  altogether 
of  the  deep  meaning  and  personal  application  of  the 
miracle,  and  the  revelation  which  it  gave  of  Him 
who  performed  it.  Thus  they  would  get  indeed  a 
temporal  benefit,  but  they  would  miss  the  spiritual 
blessing  which  Christ  designed  for  thein.  They 
would  have  their  daughter  restored  to  them,  but  they 
would  not  have  the  saving  knowledge  of  Him  whom 
to  know  is  eternal  life,  who  is  the  resurrection  and 
the  life  to  all  who  believe.     To  save  them  from  this 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  8 1 

loss,  Jesus  knowing  their  weakness  of  character  and 
the  temptations  to  which  their  circumstances  ex- 
posed them,  graciously  enjoined  them  to  tell  no  man 
what  was  done.  He  wished  them  instead  of  dissi- 
pating the  good  effect  of  the  miracle  in  mere  talk 
about  it,  to  retire  into  the  silence  of  their  own  souls, 
and  there  ponder  over  the  matter  until  they  should 
learn  its  deep  significance,  and  it  should  be  the 
means  of  leading  them  to  a  truer  knowledge  of  Him 
who,  by  raising  the  dead  body  of  their  daughter  to 
life,  gave  them  a  sign  of  His  power  to  raise  their 
own  souls  dead  in  trespasses  and  sins  to  newness  of 
life. 

When  the  miracle  of  spiritual  restoration  takes 
place  in  a  dead  soul,  the  object  of  it  is  apt  to  be  car- 
ried away  by  a  flood  of  new  emotions.  The  strange 
joy  in  his  soul  is  stirring  and  manifestive.  He  long 
carried  a  wounded  and  bleeding  conscience  without 
any  desire  to  lay  open  the  distress  to  creature  in- 
spection. He  sought  to  elude  observation.  But,  now 
that  his  desire  is  accomplished,  he  can  no  longer 
conceal  his  emotion.  -  He  longs  to  speak  of  the  mar- 
vellous deliverance  shown  to  him  ;  he  longs  to  say^ 
"  Come  and  hear,  all  ye  that  fear  God,  and  I  will  de- 
clare what  He  hath  done  for  my  soul."  Now,  it  is  a 
question  —  To  what  extent  and  under  what  circum- 
stances is  the  converted  sinner  to  give  way  to  this 
natural  and  proper  feeling  — the  desire  to  publish 
6 


82  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

the  miracle  of  grace  wrought  upon  him.  Some 
would  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that  he  should  in 
all  circumstances  and  to  the  fullest  extent  give  way 
to  it.  They  quote  as  an  example  to  be  always  imi- 
tated the  case  of  the  Samaritan  woman,  who,  when 
she  discovered  the  Messiah  for  herself,  immediately 
left  her  water-pot  and  ran  and  told  her  fellow-citizens 
of  the  discovery  ;  and  they  speak  of  being  "  instant 
in  season  and  out  of  season,"  misunderstanding  the 
meaning  and  reference  of  these  words.  But,  if  any 
converted  sinner,  no  matter  what  his  temperament 
or  circumstances  may  be,  is  to  proclaim  at  once  the 
wonderful  things  that  have  been  done  for  him,  where, 
we  may  well  ask,  is  the  practical  reason  and  the 
special  application  for  us  in  the  difference  of  our 
Lord's  instructions  to  different  people  .?  Surely,  if 
He  exercised  a  wise  and  righteous  discrimination  in 
cases  that  differed,  should  not  we  do  the  same.  I 
believe  that  the  injunction  to  publish  immediately 
the  miracle  of  grace  is  not  binding  upon  every  one 
who  has  experienced  it ;  that  there  are  individuals  so 
situated  and  so  constituted  that  their  plain  duty  is 
to  be  silent  in  such  a  crisis  ;  while  I  believe  that 
there  are  other  individuals  so  situated  and  so  consti- 
tuted whose  plain  duty  and  privilege  it  is  to  speak 
out.  Take  the  case  of  a  morbid,  brooding,  intro- 
spective man,  who  has  undergone  a  saving  change. 
The  duty  of  such  a  man  decidedly  is  to  proclaim  to 


JAIRUS'    DAUGHTER.  83 

Others  the  great  salvation  that  has  come  to  himself. 
Jesus  would  have  said  to  him,  as  he  said  to  the  mel- 
ancholy demoniac  who  had  dwelt  among  the  tombs, 
"  Go  home  to  thy  friends,  and  show  what  great  things 
the  Lord  hath  done  for  thee."  Yielding  to  his  nat- 
ural disposition,  he  would  conceal  the  change  that 
had  taken  place  upon  him,  and  brood  over  it  in  si- 
lence, until,  like  the  miser  who  feels  it  difficult  to  be- 
lieve that  his  secretly  hoarded  money,  the  god  of  his 
idolatry,  is  safe,  he  finds  it  hard  to  realize  that  he  has 
a  saving  interest  in  Christ  at  all.  He  becomes  alive 
to  every  supposition  of  uncertainty  ;  he  is  full  of 
doubts  and  fears,  and  becomes  dull  and  timid,  the 
prey  of  changing  frames  and  feelings  that  make  his 
life  miserable,  aimless,  and  practically  useless.  To 
such  a  man  anything  that  would  help  to  take  him 
out  of  himself  would  be  an  inestimable  blessino:. 
To  ask  him  to  conceal  the  miracle  wrought  upon 
him  would  be  to  foster  and  aggravate  the  morbid  evil 
within.  But  to  enjoin  him  to  go  out  among  his  fel- 
low-creatures, to  speak  to  them  of  the  things  which 
he  had  found  so  dear  and  useful  to  himself,  to  glory 
in  his  choice  and  own  it,  and  urge  others  to  become 
partakers  of  like  precious  faith,  "  Oh  !  taste  and  see 
that  God  is  good,"  this  would  be  health  and  vigor 
and  happiness  to  him.  His  preaching  to  others 
would  have  a  blessed  reaction  upon  his  own  soul.  It 
would  banish  all  morbid  doubts  and  fears  ;  it  would 


84  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

confirm  and  strengthen  his  faith,  and  make  him  what 
God  designed  every  Christian  to  be  —  healthy,  happy, 
and  useful. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  take  the  case  of  a  man 
who  is  gossippy  and  loquacious,  who  has  no  depth  of 
character,  no  concealment  in  his  nature,  but  babbles 
over  everything  like  a  brook  over  its  pebbles,  what 
ought  such  a  man  to  do  when  the  Word  of  God  has 
come  to  him  in  power?  It  is  clear  that  to  go  and 
publish  it  to  others  would  be  a  course  fraught  with 
danger  to  him.  He  would  be  inclined  to  make  his 
conversion  a  matter  of  gossip.  He  would  dwell  upon 
its  mere  outward  circumstances.  The  fact  of  having 
such  an  important  event  to  tell  to  others  would  have 
a  tendency  to  increase  his  own  self-consequence  ; 
while  the  publicity  and  ostentation  connected  with  it 
would  tend  to  make  him  value  more  the  outward  as- 
pect of  his  saving  change  to  others  than  its  inward 
relation  to  God  and  his  own  soul.^  Many  a  young 
convert  has  been  made  vain  and  conceited  and  self- 
righteous  through  the  premature  publication  to  oth- 
ers of  his  restoration.  Many  who  have  flaunted  their 
spiritual  change  ostentatiously  before  the  eyes  of 
their  fellow-creatures  have  got  irretrievable  harm  by 
so  doing.  They  made  their  religious  life  a  mere 
outward  one  —  a  thing  of  display,  feeling,  and  excite- 
ment. They  were  tempted  to  exaggerate  their  emo- 
tions, to  run  ahead  both  of  their  knowledge  of  the 


JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  ?^ 

Gospel  and  their  experience  of  its  power,  to  use 
words  that  had  no  meaning,  and  to  express  fervors 
that  had  nothing  corresponding  to  them  in  their  own 
hearts.  They  became  insincere  and  self-sufficient  ; 
their  religious  life  became  an  unreal,  conventional, 
theoretical  thing.  And  the  natural  consequence  of 
such  conduct  speedily  followed  ;  they  backslided,  and 
in  their  fall  not  only  seriously  injured  themselves^ 
but  also  dragged  down  with  them  the  cause  which 
they  so  unworthily  represented.  It  would  have  been 
far  better  for  such  individuals  if  they  had  acted  upon 
the  injunction  of  Christ  to  Jairus,  "  See  thou  tell  no 
man  ;  "  if  they  had  hid  these  things  in  their  heart, 
meditated  upon  them  in  solitude  and  silence,  until 
their  rehgious  character  had  been  sufficiently  estab- 
lished, their  faith  in  Christ  and  love  to  Him  suffi- 
ciently strengthened,  and  their  knowledge  of  His 
truth  sufficiently  deep  and  extensive  to  qualify  them 
to  speak  to  others  of  the  great  things  that  Christ  had 
done  for  their  souls.  There  would  be  no  loss,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  great  gain  to  the  cause  of  Christ, 
if,  in  the  great  majority  of  cases,  those  who  espoused 
that  cause  thought  more  and  spoke  less,  gave  them- 
selves more  to  meditation,  self-examination,  and 
prayer,  than  to  exhorting  others  on  the  strength  of  a 
very  brief  and  imperfect  experience. 

The   Saviour's  injunction   to  Jairus  is  capable  of 
very  wide  application.     How  many  people  lose  the 


86  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

spiritual  benefits  of  affliction  through  gossipping 
about  its  accidents.  They  are  fond  of  having  numer- 
ous friends  about  them  to  whom  they  can  speak  of  the 
trouble.  They  wish  them  to  come  and  sympathize 
or  condole  with  them.  They  say,  "  Behold  and  see 
all  ye  that  pass  by,  is  there  any  sorrow  like  unto  my 
sorrow."  They  tell  to  every  new  person  with  whom 
they  come  into  contact  how  the  trouble  happened  and 
how  they  feel  under  it.  Instead  of  saying  to  God,  in 
the  stillness  that  follows  the  recognition  of  His  hand 
in  it,  "  Speak,  Lord,  for  Thy  servant  heareth,"  "  What 
dost  Thou  require  me  to  be,  to  do,  or  to  suffer  for 
Thy  name's  sake  ? "  they  speak  about  the  pains  and 
inconveniences  of  it  to  those  who  will  listen  to  them, 
instead  of  retiring  to  solitude  and  silence,  and  medi- 
tating upon  the  trial  in  their  own  hearts,  upon  God's 
design  in  it  and  their  own  duty  under  it,  they  seek 
the  society  of  their  friends  to  talk  about  its  mere 
natural  circumstances.  No  wonder  that  affliction  in 
such  a  case  should  leave  such  persons  no  better  than 
it  found  them  ;  that  sickness  should  bring  no  saving 
health  with  it ;  disappointment  no  hope  that  maketh 
not  ashamed  ;  adversity  no  lesson  of  faith  or  blessing 
of  heaven  ;  and  bereavement  no  acquaintance  with 
the  Friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother,  and 
who  will  never  change  or  die.  No  wonder  that  so 
few  of  the  great  family  of  the  sorrowful  should  be 
really  acquainted  with  grief.    They  know  the  outward 


JAIRUS'  DAUGHTER.  Sy 

aspect  of  it,  its  dress,  its  appearance,  even  its  face 
and  manner.  But  of  its  inner  nature,  of  the  deep 
things  which  it  reveals,  the  love  that  is  hidden  in  it, 
the  blessing  which  it  disguises,  the  joy  that  is  at  the 
core  of  it  they  know  nothing.  To  learn  lessons  from 
affliction  that  will  make  our  whole  future  life  wiser 
and  stronger,  we  must  obey  Christ's  injunction,  "Tell 
no  man  about  it,"  and  ponder  it  in  our  hearts  —  make 
it  the  subject  of  secret  prayer  and  meditation.  We 
are  not  forbidden  to  seek  the  sympathy  of  our  friends 
in  our  troubles,  or  to  pour  out  our  hearts  to  them  ; 
for  sympathy  is  sweet,  and  has  a  wonderfully  soothing 
power.  But  what  we  are  forbidden  to  do  is  to  gossip 
about  our  trouble,  to  make  it,  not  the  means  of  hum- 
bling us  before  God,  but  of  exalting  us  in  the  estima- 
tion of  our  fellow-creatures,  raising  us  into  objects  of 
interest  and  pity,  and  thus  increasing  our  self-conse- 
quence. For  so  strangely  constituted  is  the  human 
heart  that  it  will  rather  glory  in  its  very  sorrow  than 
not  glory  at  all  ;  it  will  seek  food  for  its  vanity  and 
self-importance  in  what  excites  the  pity  of  others. 
We  are  to  hide  our  sorrow  in  our  heart,  until  it  has 
accomplished  in  us  the  good  pleasure  of  God's  good- 
ness, and  the  work  of  faith  with  power. 

How  often  is  the  effect  of  a  solemn  sermon  neutral- 
ized by  mere  talk  about  it.  This  is  one  of  the  com- 
monest ways  of  dissipating  salutary  impression.  The 
truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  has  been  faithfully  proclaimed ; 


88  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

the  Spirit  has  been  striving  to  carry  it  home  to  i  \t 
heart  and  conscience  ;  but  the  whole  benefit  is  lost 
by  the  gossip  at  the  church  door  or  on  the  way  home. 
People  speak  not  about  the    truth    proclaimed,  but 
about  the  method  of  proclaiming  it,  the  style  of  com- 
position, the  manner  of  the  preacher  ;    and  in  thus 
dwelling  upon    the   mere  external   circumstances   of 
the  "  word  in  season,"  they  lose  sight  of  its  solemn 
spiritual    significance    and    personal    application    to 
themselves.     This  is  the  principal    reason  why  the 
seed  sown  does  not  prosper  ;  why,  in  spite  of  all  the 
lessons  that  are  given  to  us,  we  do  not  learn.     We 
have  been  taught  much,  and  taught  by  God  Himself, 
and  yet  we  have  learned  little  or  nothing,  because  we 
have  talked  all  our  teaching  away.     The  great  want 
of  the  present  day  is  quietness  and  spiritual  medita- 
tion.    There  is  too  much  talk  and  too  little  thought. 
And  this  is  the  secret  of  the  shallowness  of  our  spir- 
itual life,  the  little  knowledge  we  have  of  the  truth, 
and  the  little  influence  which  it  exerts  upon  us.    This 
is  the  reason  why  religion,  through  the  life  of  its  pro- 
fessors is  so  inoperative  in   the  world.     It  has  not 
sufficiently  penetrated   into   our  own  being,  and  be- 
come a  part   of  ourselves,  through  meditation  and 
prayer,  to  produce  an  impression    through  us  upon 
others.     Mere  talk  about  good  things  will  have  no 
influence  without  the  life  which  they  produce  speak- 
ing through  the  words.     Let  those  of  us,  then,  who 


'JAIRUS'   DAUGHTER.  89 

are  apt  to  gossip  away  serious  impressions,  to  evapo- 
rate in  breath  the  good  out  of  every  sermon  and  pro- 
vidential dispensation,  commune  with  our  own  hearts 
and  be  still.  Let  us  tell  no  man  about  God's  deal- 
ings with  us,  till  we  have  thought  about  them  and  got 
the  full  good  out  of  them  ourselves.  If  God  has 
made  us  new  creatures  in  Christ  Jesus,  let  us  seek 
by  meditation  upon  our  own  character,  and  upon  the 
person  and  work  of  Christ  —  by  reading,  reflection 
and  prayer  —  to  be  rooted  and  grounded  in  the  Di- 
vine love,  to  make  our  calling  and  election  sure.  If 
we  are  afflicted,  let  us,  instead  of  speaking  to  others 
about  the  outward  circumstances  of  our  trial,  dwell 
much  in  thought  about  its  real  nature  and  design, 
and  seek  to  have  it  sanctified  to  us.  If  we  have  been 
hearing  a  true  and  faithful  sermon,  let  us,  instead  of 
talking  about  its  mere  style  and  manner,  ponder  its 
precious  truths  in  our  hearts,  and  seek  to  be  led  by 
them  nearer  to  Him  who  is  the  Truth  and  the  Life. 
Let  our  meditations  always  run  in  the  channel  of  our 
condition.  Thus  shall  we  have  root  in  ourselves. 
Thus  shall  we  prepare  ourselves  for  receiving  and 
understanding  the  messages  of  God  that  come  to  us 
day  by  day,  and  reduce  to  practice  those  good  and 
lofty  thoughts,  those  visions  of  purity  and  holiness, 
those  ideals  of  love  and  unselfishness,  which  the 
Spirit  of  God  inspires  in  us.  Thus  shall  we  work 
out  our  own  salvation,  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in 


90  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

US.  In  an  honest  and  good  heart  having  heard  the 
Word,  we  shall  keep  it  and  bring  forth  fruit  with  pa- 
tience. Our  profiting  will  appear  unto  all ;  and,  in 
the  end,  we  who  kept  wise  silence  and  refrained  our 
speech,  shall  be  able  from  a  richer  experience  and  a 
fuller  knowledge,  and  with  greater  power  and  confi- 
dence, to  recommend  the  salvation  of  Jesus  to  others, 
and  to  say  with  the  Apostle,  "  That  which  we  have 
heard,  which  we  have  seen  with  our  eyes,  which  we 
have  looked  upon  and  our  hands  have  handled  of 
the  Word  of  Life,  declare  we  unto  you,  that  ye  also 
may  have  fellowship  with  us,  and  truly  our  fellow- 
ship is  with  the  Father  and  with  His  Son  Jesus 
Christ." 


CHAPTER   II. 

THE  RAISING   OF  THE   WIDOW'S  SON. 


St.  Luke  vii.  11-17. 

And  it  came  to  pass  the  day  after,  that  he  went  into  a  city  called  Nain  :  and  many 
of  his  disciples  went  with  him,  and  much  people.  Now,  when  he  came  nigh  to  the 
gate  of  the  city,  behold,  there  was  a  dead  man  carried  out,  the  only  son  of  his  mother, 
and  she  was  a  widow  :  and  much  people  of  the  city  was  with  her.  And  when  the 
Lord  saw  her,  he  had  compassion  on  her,  and  said  unto  her,  Weep  not.  And  he 
came  and  touched  the  bier :  and  they  that  bare  him  stood  still.  And  he  said,  Young 
man,  I  say  unto  thee  Arise.  And  he  that  was  dead  sat  up,  and  began  to  speak. 
And  he  delivered  him  to  his  mother.  And  there  came  a  fear  on  all :  and  they  glori- 
fied God,  saying.  That  a  great  prophet  is  risan  up  among  us  ;  and,  That  God  hath 
visited  his  people. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    RAISING    OF    THE    WIDOW's    SON. 

SOME  places  have  been  made  famous  by  a  single 
incident.  Bethany  is  the  town  of  Lazarus  ;  and 
Nain  is  the  village  of  the  widow's  son  whom  Jesus 
raised  from  the  dead.  By  no  other  event  is  Nain 
known.  For  a  moment  the  light  of  heaven  fell  upon 
it,  and  haloed  it  with  a  glory  which  has  attracted  the 
eyes  of  all  the  Christian  ages,  and  then  it  disappeared 
into  its  former  obscurity.  The  site  of  the  ancient 
village  is  well  authenticated  ;  it  is  occupied  by  the 
modern  Nein,  a  squalid  miserable  collection  of  huts 
situated  on  the  northwestern  edge  of  Jebel  el  Duhy, 
or  the  *  Little  Hermon,"  where  the  hill  slopes  down 
into  the  plain  of  Esdraelon.  No  grander  view  can 
be  found  anywhere  in  Palestine  than  that  which 
stretches  around  this  village  from  its  green  nest  on 
the  mountain  side  ;  amply  justifying  its  descriptive 
name,  which  is  supposed  to  be  derived  from  a  Hebrew 
word  signifying  beauty  or  pleasantness.  Within  the 
circle  of  the  surrounding  hills  some  of  the  most  stir- 
ring events  in  Old  Testament  history  have  occurred. 
A  thousand  battles  have  swept  across  the  wide  fertile 


94  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

plain  below,  which,  like  the  plain  of  Stirling,  situated 
in  like  manner  at  the  point  of  transition  between  the 
Highlands  and  Lowlands,  has  been  chosen  as  a  fitting 
scene  for  strife.  To  the  right  extends  the  range  of 
Carmel,  on  which  Elijah  discomfited  the  priests  of 
Baal ;  to  the  left  rises  up  in  isolated  beauty  Mount 
Tabor,  at  the  base  of  which  Barak  overcame  the 
hosts  of  Sisera  ;  while  in  front  appear  the  mountains 
of  Gilboa,  on  which  the  despairing  warrior-king  of 
Israel,  amid  his  vanquished  army  and  slaughtered 
sons,  closed  his  tragic  career.  But  that  noble  amphi- 
theatre is  not  associated  exclusively  with  scenes  of 
death  and  destruction,  in  which  the  passions  of  man 
furnished  a  premature  prey  to  the  destroyer  ;  it  is 
also  connected  with  scenes  of  blessing  and  restora- 
tion more  suited  to  its  pastoral  beauty  and  mountain 
peace.  Nor  far  off  is  the  little  village  of  Shunem,  in 
Vv^hich  EHsha  performed,  amid  the  most  touching  cir- 
cumstances, the  wonderful  miracle  of  raising  from 
the  dead  the  child  of  his  generous  hostess.  And 
from  the  highest  point  to  the  west,  which  frowns  over 
the  sea,  the  first  cloud  that  for  three  long  years  had 
passed  across  the  burning  blue  of  the  sky  was  seen 
to  arise  at  Elijah's  prayer  out  of  the  far  horizon,  no 
bigger  than  a  man's  hand  at  first,  but  growing  larger 
and  blacker,  until  the  whole  heavens  were  overcast, 
and  the  famine-stricken  land  was  once  more  musical 
with  the  sound  of  faUing  waters  and  green  with  living 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  95 

verdure.  In  harmony  with  those  gentler  memories, 
but  in  striking  contrast  to  all  the  other  associations 
of  the  region,  is  the  one  only  incident  that  connects 
Jesus  with  the  plain  of  Esdraelon. 

Lying  upon  the  southern  border  of  Galilee,  and  on 
the  direct  road  to  Jerusalem,  our  Lord  came  to  Nain 
on  His  way  south  to  keep  the  Passover  in  the  temple. 
The  day  before  He  had  healed  the  centurion's  ser- 
vant at  Capernaum  ;  and  now,  after  having  walked 
eighteen  miles  since  the  cool  hours  of  early  morning, 
He  toiled  slowly  in  the  afternoon  up  the  steep  slope 
leading  to  the  village.  He  was  doubtless  tired  and 
footsore  with  His  long  and  weary  journey,  and  needed 
rest  and  refreshment.  But  there  was  still  work  for 
the  Father  awaiting  Him,  in  the  doing  of  which  He 
would  find  His  meat  and  drink,  and  have  His 
strength  renewed.  A  crowd  attracted  by  His 
wonderful  sayings  and  the  fame  of  His  miracles 
followed  Him  up  the  rugged  ascent.  That  rough 
broken  path  is  the  same  to-day  as  it  was  eighteen 
centuries  ago,  and  is  one  of  the  few  certain  sites  of 
events  in  the  life  of  Christ ;  so  few,  in  the  wise  prov- 
idence of  God,  we  may  well  believe,  because  of  the 
proneness  of  man  to  cleave  to  some  visible  object  of 
worship,  and  to  pay  that  adoration  to  the  thing  which 
is  due  only  to  Him  by  whom  all  things  were  created. 
As  He  drew  near  the  village,  whose  walls  and  build- 
ings loomed  in  a  hollow  of  the  heights  above  Him, 


9')  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

the  dust  of  travel  whitening  His  sandals,  a  long  pro- 
cession of  mourners  issued  out  of  the  gate.  They 
were  carrying  a  dead  man  to  his  burial  on  the  east 
side  of  the  village,  where  the  rough  rock  was  full  of 
sepulchral  caves,  which  still  exist.  It  is  probable 
that  the  young  man  had  died  that  very  morning  ;  for 
burial  in  an  eastern  clime  followed  hard  upon  the 
heels  of  death,  and  with  the  Jews  took  place  usually 
before  the  first  night-fall.  However  precious  the 
form,  it  must  speedily  be  veiled  from  view,  for  love 
cannot  endure  the  changes  which  death  has  wrought 
in  it.  When  the  sun  was  setting,  therefore,  the 
young  man  was  borne  out  from  his  mother's  home  to 
the  long  last  home  that  awaits  us  all.  There  was 
much  in  the  circumstances  of  the  sad  procession 
which  appealed  to  the  sympathetic  feelings  of  man. 
Indeed  it  would  be  difficult  to  make  the  picture  of 
desolation  more  complete  than  the  Evangelist  has 
done  it  by  a  few  simple  words  :  "  There  was  a  dead 
man  carried  out,  the  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  she 
was  a  widow."  The  desire  of  her  eyes  had  gone  be- 
fore, and  left  her  to  maintain  the  struggle  of  life  sin- 
gle-handed —  in  grief,  perhaps  in  poverty.  And  now 
her  only  child  had  been  taken  away  from  her,  upon 
whom  she  leant  for  support,  who  was  her  sole  stay 
and  solace.  And  her  home  was  left  unto  her  deso- 
late, lonely  and  empty  as  last  year's  withered  nest 
in  the  hedge. 


THE    WIDOWS  SON.  97 

To  a  Jewish  mother  there  was  an  added  bitterness 
in  such  a  bereavement  ;  for  not  only  was  the  loss  of 
offspring  commonly  regarded  as  a  direct  punishment 
for  sin  among  a  people  who  acted  the  part  of  Job's 
comforters  and  looked  upon  every  trial  as  a  judgment, 
but  to  die  childless  was  a  terrible  calamity,  because 
the  parents  were  thereby  excluded  from  the  hope  of 
a  share  in  the  ancestry  of  the  expected  Messiah, 
which  every  family  in  Israel  cherished.  The  national 
feeling  on  the  subject  of  offspring  was  very  strong. 
From  the  time  of  the  promise  given  to  Abraham  that 
in  him  should  all  the  families  of  the  earth  be  blessed, 
the  desire  of  having  children  became  a  strong  and 
leading  passion  in  the  Jewish  mind.  The  Jewish 
child  was  expected  to  be  not  only  the  possessor  of 
his  father's  earthly  wealth  and  honors,  but  also  the 
heir  of  an  inheritance  incorruptible,  undefiled,  and 
that  fadeth  not  away.  The  anticipation  of  the  glori- 
ous times  which  the  harp  of  prophecy  has  celebrated 
in  such  tones  of  anticipated  rapture,  called  forth  the 
fervent  prayer  of  many  in  Israel  that  they  might  not 
be  cut  off  from  the  possibility  of  sharing  by  their  rep- 
resentatives, if  not  in  the  birth  of  the  "  Promised 
Seed,"  at  least  in  the  glories  and  felicities  of  His 
kingdom.  To  answer  this  prayer  there  are  numerous 
instances  in  Scripture  in  which  God  has  specially 
interfered  ;  and  the  anguish  and  reproach  of  barren- 
ness were  no  more  remembered  for  joy  that  a  man 
7 


98  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

was  born  into  the  world.  Ignorant  of  God's  ap- 
pointed time  and  way,  the  widow  of  Nain  had  per- 
haps cherished  the  fond  hope  that  she  might  be  the 
chosen  channel  through  whom  the  Desire  of  all  na- 
tions should  enter  into  the  world.  But  now  her  only 
son  had  died  childless,  and  there  was  none  to  inherit 
her  name,  and  no  possibility  of  sharing  in  the  glori- 
ous national  hope.  This  gave,  we  may  well  believe, 
a  deeper  pathos  to  the  mother's  natural  anguish  ot 
bereavement  ;  and,  doubtless,  sympathy  with  it  at- 
tracted the  large  concourse  of  villagers  which  accom- 
panied the  bier  to  the  tomb,  and  drew  from  that 
emotional  race  a  wail  of  lamentation  wider  and  truer 
than  was  usually  made  for  the  dead. 

It  is  interesting  here  to  notice  that  the  three  re- 
corded miracles  of  restoration  from  the  dead,  and 
the  only  ones  as  we  believe,  were  performed  upon 
young  persons.  The  daughter  of  Jairus  was  only 
twelve  years  of  age  ;  the  young  man  of  Nain  was 
probably  not  many  years  older  ;  and  all  that  is  re- 
corded of  Lazarus  leaves  the  impression  upon  our 
minds  that  he  was  in  the  very  prime  of  life.  There 
is  a  fitness  in  this  circumstance  which  commends  it- 
self to  us,  and  renders  it  antecedently  probable  that, 
as  Jesus  was  so  sparing  and  reserved  in  these  most 
striking  of  all  the  manifestations  of  His  power.  He 
should  exercise  it  only  in  such  cases.  To  the  aged, 
whose  years  were  but  labor  and  sorrow,  and  who  had 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  99 

lived  to  say  of  things  they  once  enjoyed,  "  there  is 
no  pleasure  in  them,"  restoration  of  life  after  death 
would  have  been  no  boon.  And  therefore  Jesus  did 
not  renew  my  life  that  had  found,  or  nearly  so,  its 
end  at  the  limit  set  to  man  ;  never  awoke  the  aged 
from  the  last  sleep  to  live  over  again  the  trials  and 
privations  from  which  they  had  escaped.  Such  mir- 
acles would  have  seemed  to  us  monstrous  and  unnat- 
ural; and  the  apocryphal  Gospels,  which  narrate  a 
great  many  of  them,  indicate  by  so  doing  their  false 
character.  But  there  is  a  natural  harmony  in  Jesus 
raising  from  the  dead  those  to  whom  life  was  realty 
valuable,  who  could  both  enjoy  it  and  turn  it  to  profit- 
able uses.  That  the  young  should  be  taken  away  in 
the  midst  of  their  days,  in  the  bloom  and  beauty  of 
life,  when  they  could  in  no  sense  be  said  to  have  ful- 
filled their  (bourse,  is  a  calamity  and  a  waste  which 
we  should  expect  Christ  would  be  willing  to  repair. 

And  here  a  cognate  thought  occurs  to  the  mind, 
that  probably  one  of  the  reasons  of  the  death  of  the 
young,  for  whom  there  is  no  resuscitation  in  this 
world,  and  which  seems  to  us  so  mysterious,  is  in  or- 
der to  produce  that  variety  of  society  in  the  future 
world  which  adds  so  much  to  the  happiness  and  use- 
fulness of  this.  We  have  reason  to  believe  that  not 
only  will  the  diversities  of  character  and  experience 
which  distinguish  different  individuals  here  be  carried 
m  a  transmuted  form  beyond  the  grave,  but  also  the 


lOO  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

bodily  and  other  differences  which  arise  from  the  dif- 
ferent periods  of  Hfe  at  which  they  were  called  into 
eternity.  The  child,  the  youth,  the  middle-aged,  the 
old,  will  mingle  with  one  another  as  they  mingle  here, 
and  enliven  their  intercourse  with  one  another  by  the 
special  excellencies  which  are  appropriate  to  each 
age.  We  cannot  imagine  that  heaven  will  lack  the 
variety  which  is  the  great  characteristic  of  all  God's 
works  on  this  earth  and  in  the  stellar  worlds,  and 
which  is  so  cheering  and  necessary  in  the  world  of 
mankind  ;  that  all  its  inhabitants  will  be  of  one  fixed 
monotonous  age.  They  shall  all  indeed  be  gifted  with 
eternal  youth,  but  that  universal  youth  will  not  be 
incompatible  with  the  preservation  of  those  differ- 
ences of  years,  upon  which  He  who  knew  when  it 
was  best  to  remove  them,  had  at  death  set  His  seal 
and  stamp  for  immortality.  They  shall  never  grow 
old  ;  the  glory  of  heaven  shall  never  bring  wrinkles 
nor  gray  hair ;  and  the  flight  of  millenniums  will 
leave  them  unchanged.  But  those  ages  of  life  at 
which  their  growth  here  was  stopped,  and  which  in 
the  very  oldest  are  but  as  a  moment  compared  to 
eternity,  will  retain  forever,  amid  all  the  transfigura- 
tion of  the  glorified  state,  much  of  the  qualities  which 
distinguish  them  here  —  the  innocence  of  the  young, 
the  dignity  and  maturity  of  those  of  riper  years,  and 
the  calm  serenity  and  wisdom  of  the  old. 

We  are  apt  to  look  upon  the  fact  of  Jesus  meeting 


THE    WIDOWS  SON.  lOI 

the  funeral  procession  at  the  precise  moment  when  it 
was  issuing  out  of  the  gate  of  the  city,  as  a  mere 
chance  or  fortunate  coincidence.  But  nothing  really 
occurs  by  chance  ;  there  is  no  such  divinity  in  the 
universe.  It  is  only  the  blind  inconsiderateness  of 
men  that  has  made  Fortune  a  goddess,  and  enthroned 
her  in  the  heavens.  We  see  not  the  links  connecting 
events,  but  their  sequences  are  not  therefore  arbi- 
trary. What  seems  accidental  or  contingent  to  us, 
who  are  not  acquainted  with  the  plan  to  be  executed 
and  developed,  is  a  Divine  pre-arrangement ;  and  the 
very  aspect  of  chance  or  confusion  w^hich  it  presents, 
ought  only  to  elevate  our  conception  of  Him  who  sees 
the  end  from  the  beginning,  who  worketh  all  things 
by  the  counsel  of  His  will,  and  who  evolves  from  the 
whole  His  great  designs.  Jesus  must  needs  pass 
through  Samaria,  not  only  because  this  was  the  most 
direct  route  to  Jerusalem,  to  which  Pie  was  going  to 
keep  the  Passover,  but  in  order  that  He  might  meet 
and  converse  at  Jacob's  Well  with  the  woman  of  Sa- 
maria, and  produce  in  her  heart,  by  His  wise  and  gra- 
cious dealing,  that  faith  to  which  He  could  unfold  the 
glorious  revelation  of  His  Messiahship.  And  now 
He  must  needs  enter  the  village  of  Nain,  in  order  to 
pour  the  balm  of  consolation  into  a  heart  that  is  ex- 
periencing the  bitterness  of  the  mourning  for  an  only 
son.  He  who  brings  the  insect  to  fertilize  the  flower, 
and  the  cloud  to  refresh  the  parched  soil,  brought  on 


102  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

this  occasion  the  sufferer  and  the  Comforter  together, 
in  the  seemingly  accidental,  but  in  reality  deep-laid 
scheme  of  His  wisdom  and  love. 

"And  when  the  Lord  saw  her  He  had  compassion 
on  her."  It  is  not  said  that  the  bereaved  mother  ad- 
dressed Jesus.  She  probably  knew  not  who  He  was, 
and  was  occupied  solely  with  her  sorrow,  heeding  no 
one,  seeing  nothing  in  all  the  horizon  but  that  one 
mournful  object,  her  son's  bier,  beside  which  she 
walked,  with  downcast  head  and  faltering  steps,  weep- 
ing her  ver}^  soul  out  in  tears,  and  refusing  to  be 
comforted.  She  had  fallen  into  an  icy  crevasse  of 
despair,  where  no  human  aid  could  reach  her.  She 
knew  not  that  the  promised  Messiah,  the  Resurrec- 
tion and  the  Life  was  standing  beside  her.  But  Jesus 
knew  all  the  circumstances  of  her  case,  and  needed 
no  outward  sign  or  inflection  of  the  voice  to  convince 
Him  of  her  anguish.  Never  was  there  a  human 
heart  so  feeling  as  His.  It  thrilled  with  most  deli- 
cate sensitiveness  to  every  sight  and  sound  of  woe. 
The  very  word  employed  in  our  version  to  express 
His  sympathy  denotes  this  exquisite  tenderness  and 
sensibility.  In  the  original  it  means  far  more  than 
mere  ordinary  compassion  for  the  miserable.  It  is 
derived  from  a  term  signifying  the  womb  —  the  organ 
of  maternity  —  and  signifies  the  unutterable  pity 
which  a  mother  has  for  her  offspring.  It  is  the 
strongest  and  most  immediate  instinct  of  our  nature. 


THE    WIDOWS   SON.  103 

He  who  made  the  mother's  heart  has  a  mother's 
heart  in  His  own  bosom  ;  and  with  a  yearning  ma- 
ternal love  He  has  compassion  upon  the  poor  be- 
reaved mother.  With  the  counter-part  of  the  feeUng 
she  experienced  towards  her  dead  child,  He  pitied 
her  own  distress.  The  kind  of  compassion  which 
Jesus  bore  to  the  widow  of  Nain  is  a  beautiful  ex- 
ample of  Christ's  wonderful  adaptation  of  Himself  to 
our  wants  and  woes.  His  revelation  of  Himself,  and 
His  sympathy  and  help,  are  in  exactest  accordance 
with  our  condition.  As  the  impression  in  wax  an- 
swers to  the  seal,  so  is  there  the  most  complete  har- 
mony between  His  succor  and  our  necessity.  And 
what  He  was  to  this  woman  in  her  hour  and  power 
of  darkness,  He  is  to  us  in  similar  circumstances. 
Every  sorrow  we  endure  is  well  known  to  Him  who 
carried  our  sorrows  and  bare  our  sicknesses.  In 
every  crisis  of  woe  the  pitying  eye  of  Jesus  is  upon 
us  in  our  deepest  secrecy,  and  when  we  imagine  that 
we  are  alone,  and  that  no  one  cares  for  us  or  knows 
our  grief.  His  tender  heart  beats  with  special  compas- 
sion for  us.  No  failure  of  words  or  lack  of  utterance 
can  hide  the  inmost  movements  of  our  hearts  from 
Him.  He  is  the  present  witness  and  infallible  inter- 
preter of  all  our  experience  ;  and  it  is  perhaps  in 
order  that  God  Himself  may  read  the  secrets  of  those 
sorrows  with  which  no  stranger  can  intermeddle  — 
may  explore  the  depths  of  our  hearts,  which  we  can 


104  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

make  bare  to  no  human  eye  —  that  we  are  capable 
of  feelings  we  cannot  utter,  that  there  is  no  language 
for  the  deeper  wants  of  the  soul.  What  we  endeavor 
to  shape  to  human  apprehension  in  broken  accents, 
with  faltering  speech  and  stammering  tongue,  which 
give  forth  but  half  the  sense,  He  requires  no  channels 
of  conveyance  intimately  and  unerringly  to  know. 
What  it  would  be  but  lost  labor  to  express  to  men, 
even  could  we  find  the  means  of  expressing  it,  Jesus 
knows  from  the  corresponding  emotion  in  His  own 
heart ;  and  He  has  the  truest  and  tenderest  compas- 
sion upon  us. 

"There  is  no  need  of  words  of  mine  to  tell 
My  heart  to  Thee  ;  Thou  needest  not  to  spell, 
As  others  must,  my  hidden  thoughts  and  fears, 
From  out  my  broken  words,  my  sobs,  or  tears ; 
Thou  knowest  all,  knowest  far  more  than  I, 
The  inner  meaning  of  each  tear  or  sigh. 

"  Thou  mayest  smile,  perchance,  as  mothers  smile 
On  sobbing  children,  seeing  all  the  while 
How  soon  will  pass  away  the  endless  grief. 
How  soon  will  come  the  gladness  and  relief; 
But  if  Thou  smilest,  yet  Thy  sympathy 
Measures  my  grief  by  what  it  is  to  me." 

Jesus  Himself  was,  strictly  speaking,  the  only  son 
of  His  mother  ;  and,  as  Joseph  was  in  all  probability 
dead  by  this  time,  she  too  was  a  widow,  worn  down 
by  the  duties  and  cares  of  a  humble  home.     The  ties 


THE    WIDOW S  SON.  105 

that  bound  Him  to  her  were  of  the  deepest  and  ten- 
derest  kind,  as  much  above  those  which  unite  an 
ordinary  mother  and  son  as  His  nature  was  sinless 
and  perfect.  He  ever  treated  her  witli  the  utmost 
reverence  and  love.  Amid  His  own  engrossing 
work,  we  may  be  sure  that  He  had  never  forgotten 
her  who  had  nursed  Him  on  her  bosom,  and  with 
whom  He  had  shared  the  labors  and  joys  of  His 
thirty  years  of  obscurity  in  the  cottage  at  Nazareth. 
From  His  own  filial  feelings,  therefore,  He  could 
picture  those  of  the  widow  of  Nain  before  Him. 
And  it  is  lawful  to  suppose  that  His  compassion  for 
her  touched  Him  more  nearly  from  His  knowledge 
of  a  somewhat  similar,  but  even  more  trying,  expe- 
rience that  awaited  Himself.  It  is  not  improbable 
that  He  saw  before  His  prescient  eye  at  that  mo- 
ment the  most  touching  of  all  the  incidents  of  the 
Cross,  when,  amid  His  own  extreme  agonies,  He 
looked  down  with  compassion  upon  His  mother 
Mary,  as  with  the  sword  piercing  through  and 
through  her  heart  she  stood  near  with  the  disciple 
whom  He  loved,  and  He  said  to  them  both  in  fewest 
words  of  uttermost  tenderness,  "  Woman,  behold  thy 
son  ;  Son,  behold  thy  mother."  If  this  be  so,  we 
cannot  wonder  that  the  woman  who  came  before 
Him  in  agonizing  circumstances  similar  to  those  in 
which  He  would  soon  have  to  leave  His  own  mother, 
drew  from  His  heart  a  peculiar  compassion,  such  as 


I06  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

He  felt  not  for  any  other  human  being  —  for  all  the 
suffering  and  the  wretched  to  whom  He  so  tenderl)> 
ministered  —  and  induced  Him,  unsolicited,  to  per- 
form for  her  one  of  His  rarest  and  supremest  acts  of 
mercy. 

**And  said  unto  her,  Weep  not."  This  ''weep 
not"  is  widely  different  from  that  addressed  to  the 
hired  mourners  of  Jairus'  household.  There  it  was 
uttered  in  indignation,  for  the  purpose  of  restoring 
quiet ;  here  it  is  said  in  deepest  sympathy,  for  the 
purpose  of  cheering  and  soothing.  How  often  do 
these  words  proceed  from  the  lips  of  earthly  com- 
forters !  Such  a  phrase  is  one  of  the  commonplaces 
of  consolation,  and  it  is  as  meaningless  as  it  is 
vain.  It  is  uttered  simply  for  lack  of  something 
better  to  say,  and  in  order  to  show  our  sympathy. 
It  gives  no  reason  why  the  mourner  should  cease 
from  weeping.  What  can  we  do  in  the  presence 
of  a  sorrow  that  overwhelms  the  soul  in  the  midst 
of  the  ruins  of  its  happiness.  Miserable  comfort- 
ers are  we,  however  tender  and  pitiful.  We  may 
say,  "  Refrain  thy  voice  from  weeping,  and  thine 
eyes  from  tears,"  but  altogether  unavailingly.  The 
sorrow  flows  on  unheedingly  ;  and  we  might  as  well 
say  to  the  streamlet  that  ripples  night  and  day  over 
its  pebbles,  "  Cease  thy  flowing,"  as  to  the  heart  that 
has  a  bitter  fountain  of  tears  welling  up  in  it, 
"  Weep   not."     We   may,   indeed,   seek   to   impress 


THE    WIDOW'S  SOiV.  IO7 

upon  the  mourner  the  conviction  that,  though  much 
is  gone,  all  is  not  gone  ;  that  there  are  still  blessings 
left  to  enrich  and  endear  life.  We  may  direct  atten- 
tion to  the  precious  promises  of  God's  Word,  that 
shine  like  bright  stars  in  the  darkest  sky,  and  fall 
Uke  soft  dew  upon  the  withered  heart  in  the  loneliest 
night.  We  may  point  to  the  undimmed  blue  of 
God's  unchanging  love,  which  gleams  calmly  and 
serenely  behind  the  passing  cloud  of  our  sorrow,  and 
into  which  our  sorrow,  when  it  has  served  its  pur- 
pose is  destined  to  melt,  and  on  which  every  cloud 
that  veileth  love  itself  is  love  ;  and  we  may  speak  of 
that  glorious  fold  where  our  beloved  ones  are  safely 
gathered,  to  whose  green  pastures  and  fountains  of 
living  waters  the  Good  Shepherd  is  leading  them, 
and  into  which  no  wolf  of  death  or  woe  can  ever 
break.  But  still,  in  spite  of  all  we  can  say  or  do, 
the  tears  will  fall,  and  the  bosom  will  heave  with  its 
load  of  sorrow.  We  cannot  administer  the  relief 
that  is  needed.  We  cannot  reach  directly  the  seat 
of  the  trouble  with  our  medicines.  It  is  only  Jesus 
that  can  say  effectively,  "  Weep  not."  For  His 
words  are  but  the  signs  of  His  power.  They  are 
spirit  and  they  are  life,  and  therefore  reach  directly 
the  springs  of  our  life,  and  minister  directly  to 
the  wants  and  woes  of  the  spirit.  He  who  spake 
all  the  glory  of  the  world  into  existence  when  He 
said   to   the  primeval  darkness   and   disorder,   "  Let 


I08  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

there  be  light/'  speaks  peace  and  comfort  to  the  dis- 
tressed heart  in  the  midst  of  its  wild  regret  and 
overwhelming  yearings.  The  intolerable  sense  of 
want,  the  dread  vacuity  of  the  heart,  the  dreariness 
and  loneliness  of  Hfe,  the  perpetual  craving  for,  "  the 
touch  of  a  vanished  hand,  and  the  sound  of  a  voice 
that  is  still,"  He  removes  by  a  sweet  sense  of  pos- 
session, He  fills  with  a  calm  satisfying  feeUng  of 
love,  He  soothes  into  rest  with  an  indescribable  but 
most  real  and  blessed  experience  of  a  peace  which 
the  world  cannot  give. 

Some  look  upon  this  "  Weep  not  "  as  an  argument 
for  stoicism  under  sorrow.  They  would  have  us  sub- 
due our  grief  and  repress  our  tears,  as  symptoms  of 
rebellion  against  the  Divine  will.  They  would  make 
us  ashamed  of  them  as  signs  of  weakness,  unworthy 
of  the  dignity  of  human  nature.  Such  Christians 
have  not  learned  their  Christianity  at  Gethsemane  or 
at  Golgotha.  They  know  little  of  human  nature,  and 
still  less  of  the  blessed  religion  they  profess.  An 
indifference  that  hardens  itself  into  the  passivity  and 
unfeelingness  of  a  statue,  is  not  the  noblest  attribute 
of  Christian  manhood.  Dry  eyes  under  grievous  trial 
are  not  the  test  of  true  heroism  or  submission  to  the 
Divine  will.  They  may  be  the  sign  of  an  obstinacy 
that  refuses  to  suffer,  that  will  not  put  its  neck  under 
the  yoke  at  all  —  of  a  proud  determination  of  the 
will  to  be  sufficient  for  itself  against  all  the  evils  of 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  lOQ 

this  life.  No  one  need  be  ashamed  of  tears,  since 
our  Saviour's  eyes  were  filled  with  them,  since  we 
read  that  the  noblest  characters  in  sacred  and  secular 
history  shed  them.  There  are,  indeed,  weak  natures 
that  have  recourse  to  crying  with  little  cause.  But 
the  power  to  weep  in  the  great  crises  and  tragic 
experiences  of  life  is  a  sign,  not  of  weakness,  but  of 
strength.  It  may  be  combined  with  the  grandest 
qualities.  That  there  is  no  sin  in  weeping  is  suffi- 
ciently proved  by  the  fact  that  God's  chastisements 
are  founded  upon  the  sensibility  of  our  nature  to 
pain  and  sorrow.  Without  this  sensibility,  the  dis- 
cipline could  not  effect  any  of  the  moral  purposes 
for  which  it  was  designed.  We  cannot  be  said  to 
give  up  what  we  do  not  prize,  or  to  bear  what  we  do 
not  feel.  The  shedding  of  tears,  therefore,  is  not  a 
sign  of  rebellion  against  the  will  of  God  ;  but,  on 
the  contrary,  a  yielding  to  that  natural  susceptibility 
to  sorrow  which  God  has  given  to  us  for  wise  and 
gracious  purposes.  It  is  acting  in  obedience  to  the 
instincts  of  that  nature  which  God  has  made  ;  for  it 
does  not  depend  upon  us  to  be  unaffected  by  sorrow 
—  we  are  made  for  that  very  purpose. 

The  very  existence  of  tears  shows  that  God  has 
designed  them  and  has  a  use  for  them.  It  is  true 
that  immoderate  grief  that  is  full  of  repining  and 
discontent,  that  upbraids  God  for  the  one  trial  under 
which  it  is  suffering,  and  forgets  His  uniform  and 


no  rilREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

long  continued  goodness,  that  is  so  swallowed  up 
with  its  own  selfish  loss  as  to  forget  all  other  claims 
and  duties,  that  has  no  sense  of  heaven  —  is  sinful, 
is  rebellious.  Such  tears  ought  to  be  repressed. 
They  are  those  of  a  slave  that  scorch  and  harden, 
and  not  those  of  a  child  that  soothe  and  purify.  But^ 
when  we  surrender  our  low  self-will  and  the  full 
pride  of  our  sin  —  when,  in  the  midst  of  our  sorest 
trouble,  we  have  a  wisJi  to  be  resigned  to  the  will  of 
heaven  —  there  is  no  sin,  no  rebelliousness  in  allow- 
ing nature  to  take  her  course,  and  throw  off  the  load 
which  presses  upon  the  heart.  Our  Saviour  bids  us 
weep  in  such  circumstances,  for  tears  will  do  us 
good.  He  permits  us  to  tremble  and  shrink  under 
our  sorrow,  for  trembling  and  shrinking  at  such  a 
time  are  natural,  and  He  wishes  us  to  be  true  to  our 
human  nature.  He  does  not  wish  to  make  us  Stoics, 
but  tender-hearted  Christians  made  perfect  through 
suffering.  And,  therefore,  when  He  says,  "  Weep 
not,"  He  does  not  mean  to  forbid  tears,  or  to  make 
us  ashamed  of  them  ;  but  He  means  to  give  us  a 
reason,  a  sufficient  cause,  for  drying  our  tears.  He 
does  not  say,  *'  be  comforted,"  merely ;  He  gives 
the  means  of  comfort.  He  acts  upon  the  only  true 
principle  by  which  sorrow  can  be  assuaged,  viz.,  by 
removing  the  painful  feeling  produced  by  the  loss  of 
an  inferior  good,  and  substituting  the  joyful  feeling 
produced  by  the  possession  of  a  superior  good.     He 


THE   WIDOW'S  SON.  Ill 

gives  us  blessings  far  more  precious  and  enduring 
than  those  whose  loss  we  mourn  —  joys  that  leave 
no  stains  or  stings  behind,  in  exchange  for  those 
that  have  broken  when  we  reposed  upon  them,  and 
pierced  us  through  with  many  painful  darts.  In  the 
darkness  caused  by  the  breaking  and  the  extinguish- 
ing of  the  earthly  lamp,  He  makes  the  Sun  of  Right- 
eousness to  arise  upon  us  with  healing  in  His  wings. 
In  the  thirst  of  the  soul  produced  by  the  drying  up 
of  the  earthly  fountain,  He  leads  us  to  fountains  of 
living  water,  and  wipes  away  all  tears  from  our  eyes- 

"  Weep  not  for  death  ! 
'T  is  but  a  fever  stilled, 
A  pain  suppressed,  a  fear  at  rest, 
A  solemn  hope  fulfilled. 
The  moonshine  on  the  slumbering  deep 
Is  scarcely  calmer  —  wherefore  weep  ? 

"  Weep  not  for  death  ! 
The  fount  of  tears  is  sealed, 
Who  knows  how  bright  the  inward  light 
To  those  shut  eyes  revealed  ? 
Who  knows  what  peerless  love  may  fill 
The  heart  that  seems  so  cold  and  still  ?  " 

The  words  "Weep  not"  must  have  sounded  very 
strange  to  the  ears  of  the  sorrowing  mother.  If  any 
hope  of  God's  interference  had  at  one  time  cheered 
her  while  she  watched  her  dying  child,  all  such  hope 
must  now  have  fled.  Never  more  for  her  can  the 
happy  past  return,  or  the   future   smile.     And   yet 


112  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

there  is  an  indescribable  something  in  the  look  and 
tone  of  Jesus  that  arrests  her  attention,  and  awakens 
a  vague  hope  from  the  bottom  of  her  hopelessness, 
as  a  stray  sunbeam  in  the  dark  days  of  January  calls 
a  snowdrop  from  its  desolate  frost-bound  bed.  She 
knew  not  what  He  was  about  to  do  ;  but  she  awaited 
the  result  with  blanched  lips  and  throbbing  breast. 
It  is  an  entirely  consistent  circumstance  that  through- 
out the  whole  course  of  the  gospel  history,  amid  the 
numberless  requests  made  to  Jesus,  involving  mirac- 
ulous interpositions,  there  is  not  a  single  example  of 
a  request  to  restore  life  to  a  dead  person.  Neither 
Jairus  nor  Lazarus'  sisters  made  such  a  request. 
They  besought  him  to  cure  the  sufferer,  and  to  keep 
back  the  expiring  life  ;  but  they  were  silent  when  the 
life  had  fled.  They  felt  as  every  human  being  feels, 
that  as  it  is  appointed  unto  man  once  to  die,  so  death 
is  the  end  of  every  effort  as  it  is  of  every  hope. 
When  death  has  happened,  the  friend  of  highest 
faith  as  well  as  the  friend  of  lowest  has  to  acquiesce 
in  the  inevitable  ;  all  prayers  and  wishes  and  labors 
are  given  up,  and  nothing  is  left  but  to  mourn  our 
irremediable  loss. 

"  He  came  and  touched  the  bier."  It  was  not 
necessary  for  Him  to  do  this,  so  far  as  the  exercise 
of  His  Divine  power  was  concerned.  He  could  have 
stood  where  He  was  and  commanded  death  to  release 
his  prey  as  easily  as  He  healed  the  nobleman's  son, 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  II3 

and  the  centurion's  servant,  and  the  Syro-Phenician 
woman's  daughter  at  a  distance.  But  Jesus  acted 
here  as  He  acted  in  the  case  of  the  daughter  of 
Jairus,  in  the  case  of  the  leper,  and  in  the  case  of 
Simon's  wife's  mother.  And  there  was  a  deep  sig- 
mticance  in  what  He  did.  That  step  which  He  took 
from  the  spot  on  which  He  stood  to  the  bier,  was  an 
emblem  of  the  longer  step  which  He  took  from  the 
bosom  of  the  living  Father  in  heaven  to  this  fallen 
and  dead  world.  He  came  to  the  bier  instead  of 
raising  the  young  man  to  life  where  He  was,  just  as 
He  came  to  our  world  instead  of  redeeming  it  in 
heaven.  Jesus  came  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which 
was  lost.  He  goes  to  meet  every  case  of  distress, 
instead  of  commanding  it  to  be  brought  before  Him  ; 
and  in  the  wondrous  depth  of  His  meekness  and 
condescension  puts  Himself  on  the  level  of  the 
trouble,  and  in  that  lowly  attitude  works  its  cure. 
He  touched  the  bier.  Jesus  by  so  doing  violated  the 
letter  of  the  law  that  He  might  keep  its  spirit,  which 
is  that  mercy  is  better  than  sacrifice.  Such  contact 
with  death,  as  was  pointed  out  in  the  case  of  Jairus' 
daughter,  was  forbidden  by  the  Levitical  law,  under 
the  penalty  of  uncleanness  and  isolation  for  a  time. 
This  penalty  Jesus  incurred.  He  became  ceremo- 
nially dead  while  touching  the  dead  body.  He  took 
to  Himself  the  infirmities  which  He  removed  from 
others  ;  He  bore  in  His  own  person  the  sicknesses 


114  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE    DEAr>. 

which  He  healed.  He  wrought  His  wonderful  works 
not  only  by  the  expression  of  an  Almighty  will,  but 
also  by  the  power  of  a  redemptive  sympathy.  He 
now  touched  the  bier  of  another,  but  He  was  soon  to 
lie  on  the  bier  Himself.  He  now  became  unclean 
through  mere  contact  with  the  dead  body  of  another 
but  He  was  soon  to  become  unclean  through  a  sub- 
jection in  His  own  person  to  a  death  numbered 
among  trangressors,  the  shameful  death  of  the  cross. 
And  therefore  the  touching  of  the  bier  of  the  widow 
of  Nain's  son  was  a  part  of  the  great  sacrifice  of 
Calvary,  a  sign  and  an  anticipation  of  it.  It  indi- 
cated in  its  own  degree  and  place  the  great  truth  of 
His  suretyship  and  substitution.  He  entered  by  His 
incarnation  into  the  fellowship  of  the  penalty  which 
man's  sin  had  entailed.  It  was  as  a  result  of  the  law 
of  human  community  of  interests  that  the  Holy  One, 
who  was  Himself  undefiled  by  sin,  was  yet  subjected 
to  the  burden  of  the  curse  and  of  death,  resulting 
from  the  sins  of  those  of  whose  nature  He  had  be- 
come partaker.  And  therefore  He  touched  the  bier, 
to  show  that  He  raised  the  young  man  to  life  not  by 
His  absolute  power  as  God,  but  by  the  power  of  His 
own  suffering  and  death  as  a  sacrifice  for  sin.  We 
must  remember  always  the  precious  doctrine,  that  it 
was  in  the  lowly  and  suffering  form  that  Christ  en- 
countered the  enemies  of  His  people,  the  world,  sin, 
death,  and  hell,  and  vanquished  them   all.     In  death 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  II5 

He  conquered  ;  by  death  He  abolished  death  ;  by 
His  suffering  He  atoned  for  sin,  expiated  our  guilt, 
appeased  the  wrath  of  a  holy  God  ;  and  out  of  weak- 
ness, suffering,  death,  and  the  grave  He  came  forth 
dragging  captivity  captive.  And  it  is  still  as  the 
Crucified  One  that  He  prevails.  It  is  the  power  of 
Jesus'  love  in  self-sacrifice  that  melts  men's  hearts, 
subdues  their  will,  changes  their  nature,  and  creates 
anew  their  life.  This  is  the  advocacy  that  prevails 
with  God  in  behalf  of  His  people,  that  procures  for 
them  all  needed  grace  and  strength,  and  that  keeps 
them  safe  unto  the  day  of  redemption.  The  Cruci- 
fied One  is  destined  ultimately  to  prevail  over  every 
form  of  evil,  to  put  down  all  hostile  rule,  and  to  sub- 
due all  things  unto  Himself.  At  the  name  of  the 
Crucified  One  every  knee  must  yet  bow.  His  enemies 
in  terror.  His  redeemed  in  adoration.  Jesus  there- 
fore touched  the  bier  of  the  dead  man  at  Nain  in 
token  of  His  fellowship  with  him  in  death,  and  that 
it  was  by  the  power  of  His  own  death  that  He  raised 
him  to  life.  The  incident  also  teaches  us  how  death 
is  overcome,  not  by  any  magical  or  arbitrary  exercise 
of  will,  but  by  inward  union  with  Him  who  not  only 
has  life  but  is  life.  The  hand  stretched  out  to  touch 
or  raise  was  but  the  apt  symbol  of  a  deeper  union  in 
that  vital  energy  by  which  all  cures  are  wrought. 

"  And  they  that  bare  him  stood  still."     They  were 
struck  by  a  sudden  consciousness  that  they  were  in 


I  [6  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

the  presence  of  One  who  had  a  right  to  stop  them, 
even  in  their  progress  to  the  tomb  ;  and  they  waited 
silently  and  reverently  for  what  He  might  say  or  do. 
Stranger  though  He  was  probably  to  all  of  them,  they 
did  not  venture  to  ask  Him  why  He  placed  Himself 
between  them  and  the  fulfilment  of  their  sad  errand  ; 
they  did  not  push  on  regardless  of  His  interference. 
They  did  not,  like  the  hired  mourners  in  the  house 
of  Jairus,  laugh  Jesus  to  scorn.  They  felt  the  awe  of 
heaven  upon  their  spirits  ;  and  the  sense  of  a  higher 
world  overcame  their  human  impatience  and  pride, 
and  compelled  them  unbidden  to  stand  still  in  ex- 
pectant attitude.  And  for  this  reverential  obedience 
and  waiting  they  were  richly  rewarded.  They  had 
the  unspeakable  privilege  of  witnessing  a  mighty  act, 
which  v\^ould  in  future  change  for  them  the  shadow  of 
death  into  the  morning.  And  a  similar  reward  is 
conferred  upon  all  reverential  spirits  who  recognize 
the  Divine  presence  in  every  work  of  nature  and  in 
every  event  of  human  life,  and  who  stand  still  in 
humble  trust  and  hushed  patience  to  see  the  salva- 
tion of  God.  It  is  the  reverential  spirit  that  sees, 
with  down-drooping  eyes,  wonderful  things  out  of  the 
Divine  law  in  nature  and  grace  —  that  beholds,  with 
shoes  put  off  its  feet,  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant  in 
every  bush  that  burns  with  the  flame  of  life  —  that 
enters  with  the  blood  of  atonement  into  the  Holy  of 
Holies  of    Divine  communion  —  that    looks,   in   the 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  11/ 

spirit  on  the  Lord's  Day,  through  the  open  door  of 
heaven  upon  the  glorious  things  which  God  hath  pre- 
pared for  them  that  love  Him.  There  is  too  little  of 
this  feeling  of  reverence  in  our  daily  business  and  in 
our  religious  worship  ;  and  in  the  hurry  and  preoccu- 
pation and  familiarity  of  life,  we  lose  many  a  bright 
glimpse  of  the  spiritual,  and  many  a  rich  experience 
of  the  Divine. 

What  a  scene  for  the  genius  of  a  great  painter  does 
the  imagination  picture  at  this  sublime  expectant 
moment,  when  the  power  of  God  is  about  to  be  visi- 
bly displayed  ;  the  mother  bowed  down  with  grief, 
and  yet  lifting  up  to  the  face  of  Jesus  eager  eyes  in 
which  a  new-born  hope  struggles  with  the  tears  of 
despair  ;  the  bearers  of  the  bier  standing  still  with 
looks  of  awe  and  astonishment ;  the  motley  groups 
of  the  funeral  procession,  and  the  multitude  who  fol- 
lowed Jesus,  in  their  picturesque  oriental  dresses, 
turning  to  one  another  as  if  asking  the  meaning  of 
this  strange  proceeding ;  the  calm  holy  form  of  Jesus 
touching  the  bier  ;  and  the  last  red  level  rays  of  the 
sun  setting  behind  the  green  hills  on  the  western 
horizon,  haloing  with  a  sacred  glow  the  head  of  the 
Redeemer  and  the  shrouded  figure  that  lies  motion- 
less and  unconscious  on  the  bier,  speaking  touch- 
ingly  of  that  sun  that  shall  no  more  go  down ! 

The  stillness  is  broken  by  words  such  as  human 
ears  had   never  heard  before  ;   "  Young  man,  I  say 


Il8  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

unto  thee  Arise."  Once  before,  within  the  circuit  of 
these  GaUlean  hills,  the  spell  of  death  was  broken. 
In  yonder  village  of  Shunem  Elisha  raised  the  Shii- 
nammite's  child.  But  how  laborious  and  painful  was 
the  process  !  How  reluctant  was  the  tyrant  to  let 
go  his  hold  of  his  victim !  How  the  door  of  the  tomb 
creaked  and  groaned  as  the  prophet,  endowed  for 
the  occasion  with  more  than  Samson's  strength, 
turned  it  upon  its  hinges  with  the  sorrow  of  his  soul 
and  the  sweat  of  his  brow.  He  laid  himself  upon  the 
child,  and  put  his  mouth  upon  his  mouth,  and  his 
eyes  upon  his  eyes,  and  his  hands  upon  his  hands. 
He  prayed  earnestly  and  with  all  the  passion  of  his 
soul  three  times.  He  rose  and  walked  to  and  fro  in 
the  room  to  recover  by  exercise  the  heat  which  had 
passed  by  absorption  from  himself  to  the  cold  dead 
corpse  upon  which  he  lay.  We  see  the  birth-pangs, 
as  it  were,  of  the  resurrection  life,  and  this  was  be- 
cause Elisha  was  but  a  servant  in  the  house,  and 
possessed  but  a  limited  measure  of  the  Spirit.  But 
here  in  Nain  is  the  Master  of  the  house,  the  Lord  of 
the  living  and  the  dead,  who  possesses  the  Spirit 
without  measure,  in  whom  dwells  the  fulness  of  the 
Godhead  bodily  ;  and  He  raises  the  young  man  to 
life  with  a  word,  with  as  much  ease  as  He  performed 
the  commonest  transactions  of  life.  He  commanded 
the  young  man  to  arise  from  the  bier,  as  He  ordered 
the  young  maiden  to  arise  from  her  bed.    "I  say  unto 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  I  I9 

thee."  How  suggestive  of  omnipotence  is  that  /.  In 
His  own  name  He  speaks.  He  has  recourse  to  no 
extraneous  help.  He  relies  on  His  own  strength, 
and  He  works  by  a  power  immanent  and  inherent  in 
Himself. 

In  the  original  our  Lord  is  represented  as  using 
several  words  to  convey  His  command.  As  Greek, 
however,  was  not,  as  we  have  every  reason  to  believe, 
the  language  which  our  Saviour  spoke,  but  Aramaic, 
it  is  reasonable  to  suppose  that  He  used  on  this  oc- 
casion the  same  word  for  "  arise  "  which  is  given  in 
Aramaic  by  St.  Mark  in  connection  with  the  restora- 
tion of  the  daughter  of  Jairus.  One  word,  '' cumi'' 
in  such  a  case  would  express  His  calm  authoritative 
utterance.  In  the  narrative  of  the  stilling  of  the 
tempest,  each  of  His  commands  is  conveyed  by  a 
single  verb  in  the  imperative  mood  ;  to  the  winds  He 
said,  '' siopal'  peace,  a.nd  to  the  waves,  '" pephiinoso',' 
be  still.  In  the  healing  of  the  man  who  was  deaf  and 
dumb,  St.  Mark  gives  the  one  Aramaic  word  which 
Christ  used,  '*  Ephphatha,"  be  opened ;  and  these 
cases,  I  think,  warrant  the  inference  that,  on  every 
occasion  of  His  miraculous  interference.  He  employed 
only  a  single  word.  And  in  this  respect  the  miracles 
of  the  new  creation  would  be  in  keeping  with  the 
great  miracle  of  the  first  creation.  God  used,  not 
several  words  as  in  our  translation,  ''Let  there  be 
lightl'  b^^t  one  majestic  word,  "  Tehiothr     There  is 


I20  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

no  periphrasis  about  His  style.  He  whose  command- 
ment as  the  Lord  of  nature  runs  very  swiftly  through- 
out the  outward  world  of  inanimate  things,  utters  His 
voice  in  removing  the  disabilities  of  the  human  world 
with  the  ease  and  simplicity  of  One  who  knows  that 
He  has  only  to  speak  and  it  will  be  done,  to  com- 
mand and  it  will  stand  fast.  On  the  present  occasion 
He  did  not  mutter  His  charms  like  an  enchanter,  but, 
attesting  the  dignity  of  the  moment.  He  spoke  in  the 
hearing  of  the  people,  and  in  language  which  they 
could  most  thoroughly  understand.  And  as  His  sub- 
lime word,  arise,  thrilled  through  the  heart  of  the 
mourning  mother,  and  caused  an  answering  thrill  in 
the  hearts  of  the  silent  multitude,  so  it  awoke  an 
echo  in  the  mysterious  darkness  and  loneliness  of  the 
silent  land.  A  mother's  tears  could  not  recall  the 
lost  one.  The  agony  of  a  widowed  mother's  broken 
heart  bleeding  for  its  only  earthly  hope  and  joy,  could 
not  open  those  sealed  eyes  and  frozen  lips.  Deaf 
was  the  cold  ear  to  all  cries  and  prayers.  Love  is 
powerful  —  the  most  powerful  thing  on  earth  —  but 
death  is  more  powerful  even  than  a  mother's  love  ; 
and,  when  it  has  obtained  possession,  it  refuses  to 
give  up  its  prey  to  the  most  passionate  human  en- 
treaty. But  there  is  a  Love  that  is  more  than  love, 
that  has  destroyed  death  and  led  captivity  captive ; 
and  the  still  small  voice  of  that  Love  which  comforts 
as  one  whom  a  mother  comforteth,  and  has  all  power 


THE    WIDOWS  SON.  121 

on  earth  and  in  heaven,  reached  the  spirit  and  called 
it  back  —  made  the  young  man  sit  up  on  his  bier,  as 
of  old  it  made  Elijah  stand  in  the  mouth  of  his  cave 
at  Horeb,  and  wrap  his  face  in  his  mantle,  although 
the  earthquake,  the  whirlwind,  and  the  fire  had  pro- 
duced no  impression  upon  him.  The  young  man 
awoke  as  if  he  had  been  waiting  for  the  summons, 
not  living  only,  but  well,  bearing  no  marks  of  the 
sickness  or  disease  that  had  brought  him  to  the 
grave.  When  all  hope  was  over  forever,  the  highest 
expectation  of  hope  was  fulfilled.  The  young  man 
was  being  carried  to  the  tomb,  and  not  to  a  Saviour  ; 
but,  on  that  dread  unreturning  path,  Life  came  to 
meet  him,  and  to  turn  him  back  to  the  land  of  the 
living  ;  and  into  the  desolate  lonehness  of  the  sorest 
human  bereavement  came  the  radiance  of  a  great  joy> 
drying  all  a  mother's  tears,  as  came  the  fire  from 
heaven  on  the  cold  and  drenched  sacrifice  of  Elijah 
on  Carmel. 

"And  he  that  was  dead  sat  up  and  began  to 
speak."  What  did  he  speak  about.?  Did  he  com- 
municate to  the  bystanders  any  of  the  secrets  which 
death  so  jealously  keeps  under  his  impassive  calm- 
ness .?  .Did  he  make  known  into  what  wonderful 
regions  of  light,  shrouded  to  us  in  such  awful  and 
inscrutable  mystery,  his  spirit  had  passed  from  the 
morn  to  the  sunset  of  that  eventful  day,  during 
which  the  forsaken  body,  like  a  broken   fetter,  lay 


122  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

cold  and  dead  in  the  chamber  and  on  the  bier  ?  Did 
he  tell  how  death  looked  from  the  immortal  side,  and 
how  dark  a  contrast  to  those  bright  scenes  from 
which  his  spirit  had  been  recalled  was  presented  to 
his  view  when  he  returned  to  this  world  of  change 
and  weeping  ?  These  are  the  things  of  which  we 
might  expect  him  to  speak  to  the  bystanders.  These 
are  the  things  which  above  all  others  would  interest 
us  most  deeply.  There  is  no  one  who  believes  in  a 
life  beyond  the  grave,  but  must  feel  in  his  deeper 
moods  a  passionate  longing  to  know  something 
definite  about  its  circumstances  and  experiences. 
That  world  lies  so  near  to  us,  separated  only  by  the 
thin  walls  of  this  fleshly  tabernacle,  hidden  from  our 
eyes  only  by  this  fleeting  breath  of  life;  it  has  al- 
ready received  so  much  of  what  was  part  of  our  own 
being,  and  is  destined  soon  at  the  latest  to  receive 
ourselves,  that  it  is  but  natural  to  cherish  a  feeling 
of  earnest  solicitude  concerning  it.  In  seasons  of 
bereavement,  we  feel  it  hard  to  part  with  those  whom 
we  love  on  the  boundary  line  betwixt  this  world  and 
the  next,  and  know  nothing  more  about  them,  where 
they  are  or  how  they  are.  We  stand  at  the  gate  that 
opens  only  inwards,  and  strain  our  eyes  to  pierce 
through  the  bars  into  the  gloom  for  only  one  gleam 
of  light  to  cheer  our  spirits.  We  wet  its  posts  day 
by  day  with  our  tears  ;  we  implore  from  its  silence 
one  human  sign,  one  token  of  recognition,  however 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  1 23 

faint  and  fleeting.  But  all  in  vain  !  In  the  ebon 
vault  in  which  we  wander,  groping  after  our  lost 
ones,  we  feel  nothing  but  the  cruel  walls  of  darkness 
that  hem  us  in,  and  hear  nothing  but  the  mournful 
echo  of  our  own  wild  wail ;  and  we  are  tempted  at 
times  to  think  that  the  bright  heavenly  world,  where 
we  picture  them  to  be,  is  after  all,  as  Kingsley  beau- 
tifully says,  only  a  gaudy  window  which  our  own 
fond  imagination  paints  to  hide  the  terrible  blackness 
and  darkness  of  the  night  beyond. 

The  lips  of  the  widow  of  Nain's  son  were  sealed 
upon  those  things  which  it  is  not  lawful  for  a  man  to 
utter.  Frequent  as  have  been  the  communications 
between  heaven  and  earth,  no  voice  has  broken  the 
silence  of  death,  or  disclosed  the  mysteries  of  the 
spirit-world.  Our  Saviour  Himself  maintained  the 
same  strange  reticence  in  His  last  interview  with 
His  disciples.  He  had  been  crucified,  dead,  and 
buried,  but  He  had  broken  the  iron  fetters  of  death  ; 
He  had  burst  asunder  the  brazen  gates  of  the  grave  ; 
He  had  recrossed  the  dread  river,  and  retraced  His 
steps  up  the  dark  valley  into  the  light  and  the  land 
of  the  living.  He  stood  in  the  midst  of  the  little 
affrighted  flock,  and  showed  them  His  hands  and 
His  feet,  took  a  piece  of  a  broiled  fish  and  an  honey- 
comb and  ate  it  before  them  ;  and  by  these  homely 
signs  convinced  them  that  he  was  not  a  spirit,  as 
they  had  feared,   but  Jesus   of  Nazareth,   their   old 


124  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

Master  and  Friend.  He  was  about  to  return  to  the 
glory  which  He  had  with  the  Father  before  the 
world  was  ;  and  this  was  to  be  His  last  opportunity 
of  teaching  them.  We  should  have  expected,  in 
these  circumstances,  that  He  would  dissipate  the 
mystery  that  shrouds  the  unseen  world,  disclose  the 
true  state  of  the  departed,  and  in  the  fulness  and 
freshness  of  recent  experience,  and  in  the  affection- 
ate open-hearted  confidence  of  parting,  drop  some 
hint  of  what  it  is  to  die,  beyond  what  the  Scriptures 
reveal.  And  yet  He  said  not  a  single  word  regard- 
ing what  He  had  seen  and  heard  during  the  three 
days  when  His  body  was  in  Joseph's  tomb  and  His 
soul  in  Hades.  He  merely  shed  mew  light  upon  the 
old  truth  with  which  they  were  already  familiar  ; 
"  opened  their  understandings  that  they  might  un- 
derstand the  Scriptures."  He  left,  true,  earnest 
Teacher  that  He  was,  that  most  grand  and  cheering 
declaration,  in  .all  its  openness,  breadth,  and  univer- 
sal adaptation,  "  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard, 
neither  hath  it  entered  into  the  heart  of  man  to  con- 
ceive what  things  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that 
love  Him."  And  how  opposed  is  all  this  to  the  so- 
called  revelations  of  spirits,  given  to  those  who  call 
themselves  spirituahsts.  How  can  those  who  advo- 
cate this  wretched  creed  bring  themselves  to  believe, 
that  what  our  Saviour  refused  to  disclose,  what  those 
whom  He  raised  from  the  dead  and  those  who  had 


THE    WIDOWS  SON.  1 25 

communications  from  heaven  could  not  reveal,  what 
is  denied  to  the  passionate  supplications  of  the  heart- 
broken in  their  desolate  homes,  is  nevertheless 
granted  to  a  cold  and  prurient  curiosity.  It  is  the 
hardest  trial  of  human  nature,  in  the  hour  of  be- 
reavement, as  one  has  well  said,  to  repose  upon  the 
silence  of  God ;  but  surely  it  is  better  to  do  so  than 
to  seek  consolation  from  spirit-rapping.  It  is  better 
to  wait  patiently  in  the  darkness  and  loneliness  till 
the  day  break  and  the  shadows  flee  awa}^  than  to 
seek  to  dispel  the  mystery  by  sparks  of  our  own 
kindling  and  ghosts  of  our  own  raising  —  to  create  a 
delusive  and  unhallowed  light  by  necromantic  spells 
from  the  phosphorescence  of  the  grave. 

"  And  He  delivered  him  to  his  mother."  Who  can 
describe  the  unutterable  gladness  of  that  restoration.? 
Who  can  depict  adequately  the  mingled  joy  and  won- 
der and  gratitude  that  filled  the  widowed  mother's 
heart  to  overflowing .''  The  revulsion  of  feeling  must 
have  been  painful  in  its  very  intensity.  But  the 
Evangelist  has  left  a  veil  over  it,  for  there  are  feel- 
ings with  which  a  stranger  may  not  intermeddle.  We 
can  imagine  indeed  the  joy  of  the  widow  from  what 
we  ourselves  have  felt  when  we  have  received  back 
to  our  arms  again  those  who  were  almost  dead,  and 
-egarding  whom  we  had  given  up  all  hope.  We  know 
what  it  is  to  watch  expiring  life  in  our  beloved,  and 
as   if  by  a  miracle,  in  the  very  extremity  of  our  de- 


126  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

spair,  to  see  it  kindling  from  its  socket  and  waxing 
stronger  and  brighter.  We  remember  that  joyful 
sentence  of  the  physician,  "  Out  of  danger/'  and  the 
wild  tumult  of  emotion  with  which  it  filled  us.  And 
oh  !  how  often  have  we  pictured  the  inexpressible 
happiness  that  would  be  ours,  as  we  water  our  couch 
all  night  with  tears,  could  we  look  once  more  upon 
the  beloved  dead,  eye  to  eye,  and  return  them  smile 
for  smile.  We  would  give  all  the  world  for  such  a 
meeting  !  And  by  our  own  experience,  and  by  our 
own  vain  dreams  and  longings,  we  can  imagine  the 
woman's  bliss.  Truly  the  promise  was  literally  ful- 
filled to  her,  "  Weeping  may  endure  for  a  night,  but 
joy  Cometh  in  the  morning  ;  "  "For  a  small  moment 
have  I  forsaken  thee,  but  with  great  mercies  will  I 
gather  thee."  And  so  is  it,  if  we  rightly  regard  it,  to 
us  all.  Our  release  from  sorrow  is  not  only  as  sure 
as  the  covenant  of  God  can  make  it,  but  it  is  very 
near.  Our  light  affliction  is  but  for  a  moment.  If 
our  cross  be  heavy,  we  have  not  far  or  long  to  carry 
it.  And  soon  the  death  which  divided  will  reunite  ; 
the  wounds  which  He  inflicted.  His  own  hands  will 
heal ;  and  we  shall  see  our  beloved  once  again,  and 
our  hearts  shall  rejoice,  and  our  joy  no  man  shall 
take  from  us. 

In  the  smallest  details  and  humblest  features  of 
Christ's  miracles  there  is  profound  meaning,  just  as 
in  the  hem  of  His  garment  there  was  healing  power. 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON-.  12/ 

When  so  much  has  been  left  out  of  the  record  that 
we  would  naturally  wish  to  know,  we  may  be  sure 
that  nothing  has  been  put  in  that  is  not  essential  to 
our  thorough  understanding  of  the  miracle,  and  to 
our  perfect  learning  of  the  lesson  which  it  teaches. 
There  is  no  more  ornamentation,  no  trick  of  rhetoric. 
It  is  in  God's  word  as  it  is  in  His  works.  You  see  a 
minute  crimson  tint  upon  the  upper  lip  of  a  blossom, 
and  you  think  it  of  no  consequence.  You  fancy  that 
it  is  the  mere  result  of  chance,  a  drop  of  color,  as  it 
were,  that  happened  to  fall  accidentally  and  unno- 
ticed upon  that  part  of  the  blossom,  from  the  laden 
palette  of  the  Great  Painter  of  the  lilies  of  the  field. 
But  the  scientific  man  will  tell  you  that  that  tint  has 
been  placed  in  that  particular  position  to  guide  the 
eye  of  the  insect,  by  whom  the  plant  is  fertilized,  to 
the  point  where,  in  search  of  honey,  it  may  help  to 
carry  out  the  design  of  nature  to  propagate  the  plant. 
You  thus  see  that  the  whole  history  of  the  plant,  per- 
haps the  welfare  of  the  whole  human  race,  so  far  as 
it  is  dependent  upon  the  produce  of  that  plant,  is 
connected  with  the  little  speck  of  crimson  color  upon 
the  upper  lip  of  its  blossom,  which  seems  to  you  so 
insignificant,  so  accidental  and  purposeless  ;  and  that 
it  is  as  full  of  meaning  and  as  much  in  the  mind  and 
plan  of  the  Creator  and  Upholder  of  all  things,  as  the 
crimson  glory  of  a  sunset  that  sets  the  whole  western 
heavens  on  fire.     And  so  is  it  with  the  miracles  of 


128  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

Jesus.  The  smallest  details  in  them  were  intended, 
and  are  full  of  significance.  When  it  is  said  that 
Jesus  delivered  the  young  man  to  his  mother,  we 
have  in  this  homely  and  apparently  trivial  circum- 
stance of  the  miracle  an  indication  of  what  shall  take 
place  at  the  general  resurrection.  He  who  delivered 
the  restored  son  to  the  arms  of  the  widowed  mother 
at  Nain,  will  then  reunite  all  the  loved  and  lost  who 
fell  asleep  in  Him. 

We  know  that  the  Son  of  Man  will  deliver  us,  when 
raised  from  the  grave,  unto  God,  the  supreme  object 
of  attachment  and  highest  source  of  happiness  ;  and 
that  in  our  unveiled  communion  with  Him  we  shall 
never  know  again  throughout  eternal  ages,  as  we  have 
often  known  here,  what  it  is  to  want  a  friend  who 
can  answer  every  call  for  sympathy,  and  cheer  us  with 
a  ready  response  to  every  thought  and  intent  of  the 
heart.  But  we  need  more  than  even  this  to  complete 
the  blessedness  of  heaven.  Man  needs  more  than 
the  society  of  God.  He  wants  his  fellow-beings,  his 
helpmeets  who  are  on  a  level  with  him.  He  who 
said  in  the  earthly  paradise,  "  It  is  not  good  for  man 
to  be  alone,"  even  although  man  had  the  great  bless- 
ings of  Eden  and  the  glorious  companionship  of  an- 
gels and  of  God  Himself,  knows  that  it  will  not  be 
good  for  man  to  be  alone  even  in  the  midst  of  the 
pleasures  that  are  at  God's  right  hand,  and  in  the 
blissful   society  of    all  the   hosts  of  heaven.     And, 


THE    WIDOWS  SON.  1 29 

therefore,  He  has  provided  for  the  association  of  the 
spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect  with   each  other. 
Those  who  fall  asleep  in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with 
Him  for  the  purpose  of  restoring  them  to  each  other. 
He  will  bring  back  the  child  to  the  mother,  the  hus- 
band to  the  wife,  the  brother  to  the  sister,  the  friend 
to  the  friend,  as  truly  as  on  earth  He  delivered  the 
young  man  of  Nain  to  his  mother,  the  daughter  of 
Jairus  to  her  father,  and  Lazarus  to  Martha  and  Mary. 
Our  bodies  will  not  be  raised  from  the  tomb,  and  our 
affections,  our  truest  and  noblest  self,  be  allowed  to 
lie  there.     He   who   dowered  this  earth  with  such 
strong  personal  attachments,  the  sweetest  and  best 
things  in  h,  will  not  deprive  heaven  of  them.     He 
who  united  two  fond  hearts  by  the  closest  and  most 
endearing  ties  of  earth,  will  not  beyond  the  grave,  as 
the  poet  says,  sever  that  united  life  in  two,  and  bid 
each  half  live  again  and  count  itself  the  whole.     Are 
they  not  as  husband  and  wife  heirs  together  of  eter- 
nal life  }     The  marriage  union  were  but  a  poor  image 
of  the  bond  that  unites  Christ  to  His  church,  if  it 
were  loosed  beyond  the  grave.     It  is  true  that  there 
is  neither  marrying  nor  giving  in  marriage  in  heaven, 
for   under  new  conditions  there  must  be  new  rela- 
tions ;  but  it  is  only  that  which  is  temporary  in  mar- 
riage that  is  dissolved  by  death,  while  that  love  in  it 
which  is  immortal  is  purified  and  perfected.     If  in 
this  life  only  we  love,  to  extend  the  wqrds  of   the 
9 


130  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

apostle,  we  are  indeed  most  miserable,  considering 
the  preciousness  of  love,  and  the  frail  tenure  on  which 
it  hangs  —  the  warm  nest  upon  the  rotten  bough.  If 
on  heaven's  oblivious  shore  we  have  everlasting  joy, 
but  nevermore  the  friends  that  were  dear  to  us  here  ; 
if  to  die  is  the  disintegration  of  love  and  reconstruc- 
tion of  it  beyond  the  grave  as  an  impersonal  univer- 
sal element,  which  all  shall  breathe  equally  ;  if  the 
mansions  of  the  blessed  are  denuded  of  special  and 
particular  affections,  and  every  one  there  shall  be 
equally  dear,  and  all  shall  be  loved  alike,  —  there  is 
nothing  attractive  in  the  picture  or  prospect.  We 
shrink  from  it  with  instinctive  dislike.  It  is  not  what 
our  warm  human  hearts  crave,  for  we  know  well  that 
if  we  cease  to  love  in  the  same  way  those  whom  we 
once  loved,  if  we  cease  to  love  them  with  a  positive, 
definite,  individual  love,  we  lose  our  memory  and  our 
identity  ;  we  cease  to  be  ourselves.  Our  heart  pro- 
tests against  such  a  doctrine  as  that,  and  blessed  be 
God  it  exists  only  in  the  vain  imaginations  of  igno- 
rant men  ;  it  has  no  place  in  the  Bible.  In  God's 
Word  we  are  told  that  we  shall  have  the  most  endear- 
ing society  in  heaven  ;  that  that  society  will  include 
those  to  whom  we  were  most  tenderly  related  by  nat- 
ure or  pious  friendship,  with  whom  we  shall  resume 
our  old  special  fellowship,  purged  of  all  its  selfishness 
and  perpetuated  in  the  purest  and  most  blissful  form 
forever.     It  is   in   order  that  God  may  deliver   the 


THE    WIDOW'S  SOX.  131 

friends  and  relations  of  earth  to  each  other  when  He 
raises  them  up  from  the  grave  at  the  last  day,  that 
He  commits  the  preaching  of  the  gospel  and  the 
means  of  grace  into  hands  of  men.  It  is  in  order 
that  human  beings  in  heaven,  while  they  love  all  the 
saints  with  pure  hearts  fervently,  may  love  special 
individuals  with  a  special  individual  love,  and  may  be 
bound  to  them  by  special  ties  of  gratitude  and  affec- 
tion, that  He  makes  them  here  the  instruments  of 
each  other's  salvation.  Why  are  children  committed 
to  the  fostering  care  of  parents,  with  the  injunction 
from  the  Heavenly  Father  to  train  them  up  for  Him  ? 
Why  are  the  ties  of  family  and  friendship  so  many 
consecrated  channels  through  which  the  life  blood  of 
religion  may  flow  from  heart  to  heart  }  Is  it  not  that 
the  family  of  God  in  heaven  may  be  linked  together 
by  the  special  ties  that  bind  them  here  .^  St.  Paul 
called,  not  the  converts  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  John,  his 
joy  and  crown  of  rejoicing  in  the  day  of  Christ's  ap- 
pearing, but  his  own  personal  friends  ;  those  with 
whom  he  had  prayed,  who  had  caused  him  sorrow 
and  joy,  and  who  wept  at  parting  at  the  thought  that 
they  should  see  his  face  no  more.  And  who  can  cal- 
culate the  amount  of  blessedness  which  the  reunions 
of  such  beloved  ones,  endeared  by  such  special  ties, 
will  produce  }  Who  can  form  a  picture  of  the  tran- 
scendent bliss,  when  Christ  shall  consecrate  for  ever- 
more from  the  everlasting  Throne  the  relationships 


132  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

formed  here  beside  the  altar  and  the  cross,  and  shall 
say  to  the  mother,  "  Woman,  behold  thy  son/'  and  to 
the  son,  "  Behold  thy  mother." 

"  Known  and  unknown  ;  human,  divine  ; 
Sweet  human  hand,  and  lips  and  eye  ; 
Dear  heavenly  friend  thou  canst  not  die, 
Mine,  mine  forever,  ever  mine." 

But  there  is  a  fear  mingled  with  this  happy  pros- 
pect, that  in  the  glorified  state  too  Utile  of  what  we 
once  remembered  and  loved  will  remain.  We  are 
afraid  that  the  restoration  of  our  dead  will  be  like 
the  fabled  Palingenesis  of  the  ancient  alchemists,  by 
which  a  perished  rose  was  supposed  to  be  re-created 
from  its  own  ashes,  but  without  the  former  bloom 
and  fragrance.  Father,  mother,  child,  will  take  on  a 
new  form,  which,  with  all  its  glory,  will  lose  much  of 
the  old  famihar  charm.  But  there  is  no  cause  for 
such  a  fear.  We  may  be  sure  that  when  the  Lord 
delivers  the  saints  in  glory  to  each  other,  it  will  be 
no  counterfeits  of  the  old  friends  that  He  will  re- 
store. Fashioned  like  unto  the  glorious  body  of 
Christ  they  shall  indeed  be,  but  they  will  retain  all 
that  constituted  their  former  identity.  The  son 
whom  Jesus  gave  back  from  the  grave  to  the  arms  of 
his  mother  was  no  phantom  son,  no  pale  unfamiliar 
ghost  of  the  cherished  past.  It  was  the  same  form 
and  heart  that  she  had  loved  and  guarded  from  his 
childhood.     And  so  the  friends  that  will  be  restored 


THE   WIDOW'S  SON.  1 33 

to  US  will  be  no  new  unknown  beings,  but  our  own 
old  friends  whose  image  our  hearts  keep  so  faithfully. 
We  shall  meet  father  and  mother,  sister  and  brother 
and  friend  —  not  an  undistinguishable  throng  of 
spirits  wearing  the  same  glorified  appearance — in 
that  heaven,  which  is  not  a  foreign  land,  but  our  na- 
tive country,  in  that  house  not  made  with  hands, 
which  is  not  the  temple  of  an  abstract  Divinity,  but 
the  home  of  our  Father.  Such  is  the  happiness  of 
individual  love  beyond  the  grave,  for  which  our  nat- 
ure longs,  and  to  which  the  glorious  miracle  of  the 
resurrection  will  introduce  us. 

But,  further,  our  Lord's  act  implies  the  restoration 
of  those  who  have  been  raised  from  spiritual  death, 
to  the  true  recognition  and  right  fulfilment  of  the 
common  duties  and  relationships  of  life  on  earth. 
When  Jesus  brought  back  the  young  man  of  Nain 
from  the  dead.  He  did  not  say  to  him,  "  Follow  Me." 
He  had  laid  him  under  a  debt  of  gratitude  which 
only  a  life  of  devotion  to  His  service  could  pay.  The 
life  which  had  been  restored  in  so  miraculous  a  man- 
ner might  well  be  dedicated  to  his  Saviour,  and  filled 
with  works  of  faith  and  labors  of  love  for  His  sake. 
And  yet  Jesus  did  not  summon  him  to  such  a  public 
ministry,  did  not  require  at  his  hands  such  a  sacri- 
fice of  home,  and  friends,  and  ordinary  business. 
"  He  delivered  him  to  his  mother."  Within  the  cir- 
cle of  home,  the   young  man  would   find  his  most 


134  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

urgent  and  sacred  field  of  ministration.  To  be  the 
joy  of  the  lonely  widow's  heart,  and  the  stay  and 
support  of  the  widow's  desolate  home,  would  for 
him  be  the  reasonable  service  of  God.  The  mercy 
required  of  him  was  better  than  all  public  sacrifice  ; 
the  fulfilment  of  an  only  son's  duty  to  a  widowed 
mother  would  be  more  acceptable  in  the  sight  of 
God  than  the  public  following  of  Christ  as  a  disci- 
ple, while  that  duty  was  abandoned  or  left  to  others 
to  perform.  He  who  had  compassion  upon  the 
widow  when  her  son  was  lost  to  her  in  death,  had 
compassion  upon  her  lonely  desolate  circumstances 
when  her  son  was  restored  to  her.  He  who  com- 
manded the  parents  of  Jairus'  daughter  to  give  her 
common  food,  after  her  marvellous  resuscitation,  de- 
livered the  widow  of  Nain's  son  to  the  duties  of  or- 
dinary life,  after  He  had  raised  him  from  the  dead. 
He  drew  Matthew  from  the  receipt  of  custom,  and 
Peter  and  Andrew  from  the  fisherman's  nets,  and 
James  and  John  from  the  side  of  Zebedee  their 
father  ;  He  said,  ''He  that  loveth  father  and  mother 
more  than  Me  is  not  worthy  of  Me  ;  "  and  com- 
manded us  to  hate  and  forsake  father  and  mother 
and  wife  and  child  and  house  and  land  for  His  sake 
and  the  Gospel's.  But  He  knew  how  dependent  the 
widow  was  upon  her  son  ;  how  desolate  her  life 
would  be  without  him  ;  and  therefore  He  laid  no 
commands  upon    him   that  would   conflict  with    his 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  1 35 

duty  to  her,  but  simply  and  freely  delivered  him  up 
to  her.  And  we  can  imagine  what  a  mighty  effect 
this  extraordinary  and  unexpected  restoration  would 
produce  upon  the  relations  of  mother  and  son  to  one 
another  henceforward.  Like  Abraham,  she  received 
her  son  back  from  the  sacrifice  of  death,  invested 
with  a  holier  character,  and  freed  from  the  dominion 
of  self  and  the  bondage  of  the  world  —  freed  from 
all  the  doubts,  anxieties,  and  fears  of  a  fond,  foolish 
idolatry — a  treasure  henceforth  to  be  loved  with 
that  holy  and  unselfish  love,  which  is  a  foreshadow- 
ing of  that  which  shall  survive  death  and  knit  heart 
to  heart  in  eternity.  And  how  would  the  extraordi- 
nary event  invest  with  a  new  sanctity  all  the  duties 
and  relationships  of  life  to  the  young  man  himself ! 
Returning  wondrously  adorned  by  the  spoils  of  the 
kingdom  beyond  the  tomb,  he  would  shed  the  solem- 
nity of  his  own  spirit  and  the  gratitude  of  his  own 
heart  upon  the  whole  sphere  of  his  experience.  He 
would  be  a  more  loving  son  by  reason  of  his  brief 
but  awful  separation  from  his  mother.  He  would 
fulfil  more  perfectly  the  claims  of  filial  devotion, 
remembering  how  very  nearly  for  him  they  were 
over  forever.  Delivered  to  his  mother  from  death, 
by  the  miraculous  interposition  of  Jesus,  we  may  well 
suppose  that  he  was  restored  to  all  that  constitutes 
the  life  of  a  true  son  in  the  household  and  of  a  true 
man  in  the  world. 


136  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

It  is  lawful,  I  think,  to  apply  the  case  of  the  widow 
of  Nain's  son  as  an  analogy  to  the  case  of  a  man  who 
is  converted.  Jesus  performs  upon  such  a  man  a 
miracle  greater  and  more  wonderful  than  the  restora- 
tion of  the  young  man  from  the  dead.  It  is,  indeed, 
a  spiritual  resurrection,  a  raising  from  a  death  in  sin 
to  newness  of  life  in  Christ  Jesus.  And,  in  the  great 
majority  of  cases,  our  Lord  delivers  such  restored 
persons  to  the  common  duties  and  relationships  of 
life,  to  fulfil  them  more  perfectly,  in  the  light  and 
power  of  their  new  experience.  It  is  only  one  here 
and  there,  whom  He  Himself  has  specially  qualified 
and  circumstanced,  that  He  commands,  like  Matthew. 
Peter,  James,  and  John,  to  forsake  all  and  follow  Him. 
But  how  different  is  this  from  our  ordinary  concep- 
tions !  We  imagine  that  there  is  only  one  stereo- 
typed way  of  serving  God  acceptably.  The  idea  is 
deeply  rooted  in  the  minds  of  many,  that  whenever 
they  are  converted  they  have  received  a  call  to  fol- 
low Christ  publicly,  to  forsake  their  old  duties  and 
relations,  and  take  up  new  ones  that  will  bring  them 
more  under  the  eye  of  their  fellow-creatures.  There 
is  a  prevailing  disposition  to  consider  the  perfect 
image  of  a  Christian  life,  to  be  the  entire  and  for- 
mal surrender  of  all  our  powers  and  possessions  to  the 
work  of  teaching  and  evangelizing  mankind.  Many 
base  their  ideas  of  a  converted  life  upon  Christ's 
command  to  the  young  ruler,  "  If  thou  wilt  be  per- 


THE   WIDOW'S  SON.  137 

■feet,  sell  all  that  thou  hast  and  give  to  the  poor  and 
follow  me,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven." 
But  those  who  urge  such  "councils  of  perfection,"  do 
not  seem  to  know,  that  the  command  to  the  young 
ruler  was  an  individual  injunction,  limited  by  indi- 
vidual specialities.  It  was  given  to  the  young  ruler 
because  it  was  applicable  to  his  case  and  circum- 
stances, because  his  riches  were  a  snare  to  him,  and 
stood  between  him  and  the  salvation  of  his  soul  ; 
and  to  him  it  was  not  a  "  council  of  perfection," 
which  he  might  reject  if  he  pleased,  but  a  command, 
to  refuse  obedience  to  which  was  to  refuse  to  follow 
the  only  way  that  could  lead  him  to  eternal  life.  But 
Christ  did  not  say  to  Lazarus,  or  to  the  young  man 
of  Nain,  or  to  hundreds  more  whom  He  relieved,  and 
on  whom  He  conferred  the  greatest  benefits,  "  Sell 
all  that  thou  hast  and  follow  Me."  For  most  men, 
it  would  simply  be  wrong  to  do  this  ;  as  hurtful  to 
themselves  and  to  society  as  it  would  be  foolish. 
The  paths  of  perfection,  although  one  in  principle, 
differ  widely  in  their  form  ;  and  they  are  determined 
in  every  case  by  peculiarities  of  nature  and  circum- 
stances, which  are  the  lines  which  God  Himself  has 
marked  out,  and  the  bounds  which  He  has  set. 
There  are  many  administrations,  but  one  Lord  ;  and 
if  we  only  get  rid  of  the  besetting  sin  that  hinders! 
our  perfection,  we  can  make  our  life  as  beautiful  and 
useful  in  the  sight  of  God,  while  we  fulfil  the  mani- 


138  THREE  RAISIXGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

fold  obligations  of  life  within  the  circle  of  the  world's 
daily  customary  activity,  as  though  we  forsook  all 
and  followed  Christ  publicly.  We  must  remember 
that  it  was  He  who  had  no  family  ties,  no  home,  no 
possessions,  no  aims  or  objects  of  a  personal  kind, 
who  nevertheless  consecrated  family  life,  turning  its 
water  into  wine,  and  took  up  little  children  in  His 
arms  and  blessed  them.  It  was  He  who  called 
Matthew  from  the  receipt  of  custom,  and  Peter  and 
James  and  John  from  the  fisherman's  toil,  to  forsake 
all  and  follow  Christ,  who  sent  home  the  cured  de- 
moniac of  Gadara  to  his  family,  to  bear  witness 
among  old  friends  and  associations  to  the  mighty 
power  of  God,  and  delivered  the  young  man  of  Nain 
to  his  widowed  mother. 

To  a  few  here  and  there,  now  and  then,  specially 
qualified  and  specially  circumstanced,  He  says  in 
their  conversion,  '*  Follow  Me,"  in  the  abandoning  of 
common  ties  and  secular  duties,  in  order  to  lead  a 
life  of  entire  consecration  to  the  public  service  of 
God.  But  the  great  majority  of  those  whom  He 
raises  from  a  death  in  sin,  and  restores  to  spiritual 
life,  He  delivers  to  their  old  friends  and  their  former 
duties.  He  recognizes  the  first  and  foremost  claims 
of  family  life  upon  them.  Among  old  associations 
and  habits  that  have  become  easy,  they  can  testify 
most  powerfully,  and  with  least  temptation  to  self- 
glorification,  on  behalf  of  their  Master.    The  first  and 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  1 39 

best  sphere  of  the  young  convert  is  undoubtedly  in 
his  own  home,  by  his  own  fireside,  among  his  own 
brothers  and  sisters  ;  since  those  who  had  best  known 
him  in  his  dead  unconverted  state,  who  had  followed 
his  bier  sorrowfully  to  the  grave  of  sin,  will  be  the 
most  thoroughly  convinced  of  Christ's  miraculous 
power  of  restoration  in  his  case.  ''  The  members  of 
a  man's  own  household,  and  the  familiar  friends  of 
his  own  social  circle,  are  the  best  judges  of  the  gen- 
uineness of  his  conversion.  It  is  very  easy  to  put  on 
seemings  of  godliness  that  shall  deceive  strangers  ; 
but  that  must  be  a  true  piety  which,  amid  the  daily 
vexations  of  life  and  the  unrestrained  intercourse  of 
the  home  circle,  bears  the  image  of  Jesus.  The  tes- 
timony of  a  man's  parents,  or  wife,  or  children,  or 
servants,  or  customers,  or  employers,  to  the  great 
change  that  he  has  undergone,  is  worth  all  the  certifi- 
cates of  church  courts  the  world  has  ever  seen.  And 
it  is  at  once  a  finer  proof  and  a  higher  manifestation 
of  vital  godliness,  to  live  every  day  in  the  family 
circle  in  the  commandments  and  ordinances  of  the 
Lord  blameless,  than  to  go  forth  into  the  public  high- 
ways to  talk  and  preach  about  Jesus."  Happy  is  he 
who  is  thus  delivered  to  his  mother  by  the  hand  of 
the  Saviour  ;  who  finds  the  first  believer  in  his  res- 
toration in  his  own  mother,  or  wife,  or  child !  Happy 
is  the  household  that  can  say,  with  the  father  of  the 
prodigal,  "  Rejoice  with  us,  for  our  brother  was  dead 
and  is  alive  again,  was  lost  and  is  found." 


140  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

It  is  the  home  that,  first  after  the  heart,  needs  to  be 
purified  and  elevated.  It  is  the  domestic  affections 
and  natural  duties  that  require  first  to  be  sanctified. 
They  were  the  first  that  felt  the  direful  effects  of  the 
fall ;  they  are  the  first  and  sorest  that  suffer  from 
any  course  of  sin.  It  is  the  father's  heart,  the  moth- 
er's heart  that  is  most  grieved  by  the  evil-doing  of 
any  member  of  the  household.  The  home,  the  fam- 
ily circle,  the  natural  affections,  should  therefore  be 
the  first  to  experience  the  blessed  effects  of  saving 
and  restoring  grace.  Domestic  life  without  God  and 
without  spiritual  hope  becomes  cold  and  hard  and 
selfish.  But,  when  the  convert  is  sent  back  by  Jesus 
to  his  home  and  family,  it  is  in  order  to  show  that 
the  mighty  Hand  that  raised  himself  from  the  dead 
raised  his  affections  too  ;  and  made  him  who  was  a 
bad  son,  a  selfish  husband,  a  hard  father,  a  careless 
brother,  full  of  tenderness  and  gentleness,  and 
thoughtful,  unselfish  consideration  in  all  these  rela- 
tions. 

Religion,  like  charity,  should  begin  at  home. 
Here  emphatically  he  that  provides  not  for  his  own, 
denies  the  faith  and  is  worse  than  an  infidel.  That 
Christian  benevolence  which  neglects  religion  at 
home  for  the  sake  of  carrying  it  abroad  is  a  sound- 
ing brass  and  a  tinkling  cymbal.  That  convert  who 
talks  of  his  experience  in  the  religious  meeting,  and 
shows  none  of  the  fruits  of  it  in  his  dealings  with 


THE    WIDOlirS  SON.  14 1 

those  connected  with  him,  who  is  a  saint  in  public 
and  a  selfish  tyrant  at  home,  is  a  hypocrite  of  the 
grossest  type.  And  we  may  rest  assured  that  if 
the  home  feels  the  influence  of  a  man's  conversion, 
that  home  will  become  a  centre  of  holy  influence  to 
the  neighborhood.  In  proportion  as  it  becomes 
more  pure  and  loving,  and  more  like  the  heavenly 
home ;  in  proportion  as  the  life  and  the  love  of 
Christ  are  acknowledged  in  it,  and  the  family  tie  in 
consequence  felt  to  be  more  tender  and  strong,  so 
will  the  number  of  those  increase  who  will  endeavor 
to  create  such  homes  over  the  wide  waste  of  the 
the  world,  and  seek  out  wider  afifinities  and  relation- 
ships yet  unrecognized.  The  Christian  love  that 
takes  in  a  race  and  a  world  has  its  root  in  the 
healthy  and  permanent  centre  of  the  home  and  the 
family.  Go  first,  then,  all  ye  who  have  been  restored 
from  the  dead  by  the  saving  grace  of  your  Re- 
deemer, to  the  sphere  where  God  hath  cast  your  lot, 
to  your  own  family,  to  your  own  social  circle  and 
common  round  of  duties  and  relationships.  Your 
own  heart  first,  then  your  own  family,  then  your  own 
church,  then  your  own  country,  and  then  the  whole 
world.  This  is  God's  great  harmonious  law  of  Chris- 
tian influence.  And  remember  that  you  are  thus  de- 
livered to  your  home  and  friends  by  your  Saviour  in 
your  conversion,  in  order  that  you  may  prepare  them 
and  prepare  yourselves  for  the  blessed  final  restora- 


142  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

tion  of  heaven,  where  the  sweet  relationships  of  life, 
purified  from  all  the  stains  of  earth  and  perfected 
forever,  will  form  one  of  the  most  blissful  elements 
in  the  joy  of  the  redeemed.  You  are  delivered  to 
your  friends  in  grace  here  that  you  may  be  delivered 
to  them  in  glory  hereafter. 

Upon  the  spectators  the  effect  of  the  wonderful 
miracle  was  overwhelming.  A  great  fear  fell  upon 
them,  that  strange  instinctive  fear  produced  by  sud- 
den contact  with  the  invisible  world,  which  we  feel 
even  in  the  presence  of  our  beloved  dead,  on  account 
of  the  awful  mystery  in  which  they  are  shrouded. 
They  remembered  Elijah,  who  raised  the  son  of  the 
widow  of  Zarephath  just  across  their  own  northern 
border,  and  Elisha  who  raised  the  son  of  the  Shu- 
nammite  in  the  ancient  village  near  at  hand  among 
their  own  hills  ;  and  they  felt  that  a  greater  prophet 
than  even  the  greatest  seers  of  the  olden  times  had 
come  amongst  them,  for  they  with  agonies  and  ener- 
gies of  supplication  had  recalled  the  spirit  that  had 
fled,  but  He  had  brought  the  dead  to  life  calmly,  in- 
cidentally, instantaneously,  in  His  own  name,  by  His 
own  authority  and  by  a  single  word.  They  glorified 
God  that  the  long  period  during  which  there  had 
been  no  prophet,  no  supernatural  sign,  no  communi- 
cation between  heaven  and  earth,  nothing  but  the 
continuous  motion  of  the  wheels  of  Providence  along 
the  same  beaten  track,  and  the  uniform  action  of  the 


THE    WIDOW'S  SON.  1 43 

dull  unchanging  signals  of  nature  that  carried  the 
general  dispatches  of  the  universe,  had  come  to  an 
end  at  last,  and  God  had  come  out  from  behind  the 
veil  of  nature  and  broken  the  silence  of  heaven  and 
visited  His  people.  They  had  "open  vision  once 
more,"  and  a  sense  of  the  nearness  of  heaven.  But 
far  short  were  their  impressions  and  conceptions, 
however  vivid  at  the  moment,  of  the  glorious  truth. 
They  had  been  so  accustomed  to  separate  God  from 
man,  that  they  could  not  conceive  of  any  other  con- 
nection between  them,  except  what  was  arbitrary 
and  infused  by  irregular,  transient,  and  local  interpo- 
sitions of  an  external  force.  They  could  not  rise  to 
the  conception  of  a  continuous,  complete  communion 
of  the  soul  of  man  with  God,  in  the  indwelling  of 
the  Divine  Spirit  in  man,  which  is  the  fundamental 
experience  of  Christianity.  They  did  not  know  that 
heaven  and  earth  had  coalesced  in  the  person  of 
Jesus  ;  that  He  who  appeared  to  their  sleeping  an- 
cestor at  Bethel  at  the  top  of  the  ladder,  had  now 
appeared  to  them  at  the  foot,  in  order  that  He  might 
lift  them  up  by  the  new  and  living  way,  by  the  suc- 
cessive steps  of  His  own  obedience,  suffering,  and 
death,  from  the  degradation  and  alienation  of  sin  to 
the  calm  pure  heights  of  heavenly  grace.  The  mir- 
acle of  raising  the  dead  was  very  wonderful  to  them, 
but  a  far  greater  wonder  was  the  living  presence  of 
Jesus  Himself.     Even  if,  like  John  the  Baptist,  He 


144  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

had  done  no  miracles,  His  perfectly  pure  and  sinless 
life,  in  the  mould  of  our  human  circumstances,  was 
a  far  greater  miracle  than  the  creation  of  the  world. 
The  fulfilment  of  the  moral  law  without  us,  in  the 
person  of  Jesus  Christ,  is  the  miracle  of  miracles, 
which  overwhelms  the  thoughtful  mind  with  aston- 
ishment and  awe.  It  is  that  which  produces  upon 
us  the  irresistible  conviction  that  God  hath  indeed 
visited  His  people  ;  that  He  is  the  Word  of  God 
who  came  to  reveal  and  declare  His  Father  to  man- 
kind. And  we  have  no  further  astonishment  left 
when  we  are  told  that  He  did  on  earth  what  could 
be  done  by  the  power  of  God  alone.  God  has  vis- 
ited us  not  as  a  mighty  Wonder-worker  merely,  but 
as  a  Saviour  by  Revelation  and  by  Hope ;  and  the 
true  faith  is  that  which  looks  up  through  Him  to  the 
Eternal  Father  in  heaven. 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE  RAISING   OF  LAZARUS. 


10 


St.  John  xi.  1-47. 

Now  a  certain  man  was  sick,  named  Lazarus,  of  Bethany,  the  town  of  Mary  and 
her  sister  Martha.  (It  was  that  Mary  which  anointed  the  Lord  with  ointment,  and 
wiped  his  feet  with  her  hair,  whose  brother  Lazarus  was  sick.)  Therefore  his  sis- 
ters sent  unto  him,  saying,  Lord,  behold,  he  whom  thou  lovest  is  sick. 

When  Jesus  heard  that,  he  said.  This  sickness  is  not  unto  death,  but  for  the 
glory  of  God,  that  the  Son  of  God  might  be  glorified  thereby.  Now  Jesus  loved 
Martha,  and  her  sister,  and  Lazarus.  When  he  had  heard  therefore  that  he  was 
sick,  he  abode  two  days  still  in  the  same  place  where  he  was.  Then  after  that  saith 
he  to  his  disciples.  Let  us  go  into  Judea  again.  His  disciples  say  unto  him,  Master, 
the  Jews  of  late  sought  to  stone  thee ;  and  goest  thou  thither  again .'  Jesus  an- 
swered. Are  there  not  twelve  hours  in  the  day?  If  any  man  walk  in  the  day,  he 
stumbleth  not,  because  he  seeth  the  light  of  this  world.  But  if  a  man  walk  in  the 
night,  he  slunibletli,  because  there  is  no  light  in  him.  These  things  said  he ;  and 
after  that  he  saith  unto  them,  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth ;  but  I  go,  that  I  may 
awake  him  out  of  sleep.  Then  said  his  disciples.  Lord,  if  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well. 
Hovvbeit,  Jesus  spake  of  his  death  :  but  they  thought  that  he  had  spoken  of  taking 
of  rest  in  sleep.  Then  said  Jesus  unto  them  plainly,  Lazarus  is  dead.  And  I  am 
glad  for  your  sakes  that  I  was  not  there,  to  the  intent  ye  may  believe ;  nevertheless 
let  us  go  unto  him.  Then  said  Thomas,  which  is  called  Didymus,  unto  his  fellow- 
disciples,  Let  us  also  go,  that  we  may  die  with  him. 

Then  v^hen  Jesus  came,  he  found  that  he  had  lain  in  the  grave  four  days  already. 
Now  Bethany  was  nigh  unto  Jerusalem,  about  fifteen  furlongs  off.  And  many  of 
the  Jews  came  to  Martha  and  Mary,  to  comfort  them  concerning  their  brother. 
'Ihen  Martha,  as  soon  as  she  heard  that  Jesus  was  coming,  went  and  met  him  ;  but 
Mar\-  sat  still  in  the  house.  Then  said  Martha  unto  Jesus,  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here,  my  brother  had  not  died.  But  I  know,  that  even  now,  whatsoever  thou  wilt 
ask  of  God,  God  will  give  it  thee.  Jesus  saith  unto  her,  Thy  brother  shall  rise  again. 
Martha  saith  unto  him,  I  knov/that  he  shall. rise  again  in  the  resurrection  at  the  last 
day.  Jesus  said  unto  her,  I  am  the  resurrection,  and  the  life ;  he  that  believeth  in 
nie,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live;  and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in 
me  shall  never  die.  Believest  thou  this  ?  She  saith  unto  him,  Yea,  Lord :  I  believe 
that  thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  which  should  come  into  the  world. 

And  when  she  had  so  said,  she  went  her  way,  and  called  Mary  her  sister  secretly 
saying,  The  Master  is  come,  and  calleth  for  thee.     As  soon  as  she  heard  that,  she 


148  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM    THE  DEAD. 

arose  quickly,  and  came  unto  him.  Now  Jesus  was  not  yet  come  into  the  town,  but 
was  in  that  place  where  Martha  met  him.  The  Jews  then  which  were  with  her  in 
the  house,  and  comforted  her,  when  they  saw  Mary,  that  she  rose  up  hastily  and 
went  out,  followed  her,  saying,  She  gofeth  unto  the  grave  to  weep  there.  Then  when 
Mary  was  come  where  Jesus  was,  and  saw  him,  she  fell  down  at  his  feet,  saying 
unto  him,  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not  died.  When  Jesus 
therefore  saw  her  weeping,  and  the  Jews  also  weeping  which  came  with  her,  he 
groaned  in  the  spirit  and  was  troubled,  and  said.  Where  have  ye  laid  him  ?  They 
said  unto  Him,  Lord,  come  and  see.  Jesus  wept.  Then  said  the  Jews,  Behold  how 
he  loved  him  !  And  some  of  them  said.  Could  not  this  man,  which  opened  the  eyes 
of  the  blind,  have  caused  that  even  this  man  should  not  have  died  ?  Jesus  therefore, 
again  groaning  in  himself,  cometh  tu  -..he  grave.  It  was  a  cave,  and  a  stone  lay  upon 
it.  Jesus  said,  Take  ye  away  the  stone.  Martha,  the  sister  of  him  that  was  dead, 
saith  unto  him.  Lord,  by  this  time  he  stinketh :  for  he  hath  been  dead  four  days.  Jesus 
saith  unto  her,  Said  I  not  unto  thee,  that,  if  thou  wouldest  believe,  thou  shouldest  see 
the  glory  of  God  ?  Then  they  took  away  the  stone  from  the  place  where  the  dead  was 
laid.  And  Jesus  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and  said,  Father,  I  thank  thee  that  thou  hast  heard 
me.  And  I  knew  that  thou  hearest  me  always :  but  because  of  the  people  which  stand 
by  I  said  it,  that  they  may  believe  that  thou  hast  sent  me.  And  when  he  thus  had 
spoken,  he  cried  with  a  loud  voice,  Lazarus,  come  forth.  And  he  that  was  dead  came 
forth,  bound  hand  and  foot  with  grave-clothes ;  and  his  face  was  bound  about  with  a 
napkin.     Jesus  saith  unto  them.  Loose  him,  and  let  him  go. 

Then  many  of  the  Jews  which  came  to  Marj',  and  had  seen  the  things  which  Jesus 
did,  believed  on  him.  But  some  of  them  went  their  ways  to  the  Pharisees,  and  told 
them  what  things  Jesus  had  done. 


CHAPTER  III. 

IHE    RAISING    OF    LAZARUS. 

'nr^HE  raising  of  Lazarus  is  made  by  sceptical 
-■-  writers  one  of  the  chief  crucial  points  in  de- 
termining the  authenticity  of  St.  John's  Gospel. 
An  unfavorable  argument  is  drawn  from  the  silence 
of  the  other  Evangelists  regarding  this  event.  It 
does  seem  stransre  that  no  reference  should  have 
been  made  by  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke  to  an  occur- 
rence so  great  and  startling  in  itself — which  must 
have  created  a  profound  and  widespread  sensation  at 
the  time,  and  which  led  directly  to  the  execution  of 
those  measures  of  vengeance  which  the  Jewish  au- 
thorities had  long  formed  against  Jesus.  We  should 
have  imagined  that  an  incident  so  touching  in  all  its 
attending  circumstances,  and  so  illustrative  of  the 
very  heart  of  Jesus,  would  have  been  naturally  one 
on  which  the  Evangelists  would  have  delighted  to 
dwell,  and  which  all  of  them  would  have  described 
fully  in  their  narratives.  Why  only  a  single  Evan- 
gelist, therefore,  should  have  recorded  it,  is  involved 
in  a  mystery  which  we  have  not  the  means  of  pene- 
trating, and  which  no  explanation  hitherto  given  is 


I50  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

adequate  to  clear  away.  The  common  reason  as 
signed,  that  the  Synoptical  writers  forebore  to  men- 
tion the  incident  during  the  lifetime  of  Lazarus,  lest 
it  should  attract  the  attention  of  the  authorities  and 
kindle  their  animosity  against  him  —  such  consider- 
ations of  caution  having  ceased  to  possess  any  weight 
when  John  wrote  long  afterwards  and  out  of  Pales- 
tine —  breaks  down  at  once  because  of  its  obvious 
want  of  verisimilitude.  We  cannot  suppose  that 
Lazarus  would  shrink  from  any  personal  danger  con- 
nected with  the  publication  of  the  miracle,  when 
hundreds  in  that  and  the  subsequent  age  willingly 
laid  down  their  lives  as  a  testimony  to  their  faith, 
without  imputing  to  him  a  cowardice  unworthy  of 
him,  and  casting  him  down  from  that  lofty  moral  po- 
sition which  he  occupies  in  the  eye  of  all  Christians, 
as  the  object  of  Christ's  special  personal  love.  An- 
other reason  given,  viz.,  that  the  Synoptical  writers 
mainly  describe  the  events  of  Christ's  life  which 
happened  within  the  region  of  Galilee,  while  St. 
John  has  confined  his  attention  chiefly  to  Christ's 
career  in  Judea,  has  more  apparent  force,  but  it  does 
not  really  explain  the  difficulty  ;  it  is  only  a  re-stat- 
ing of  it  in  another  form.  Besides,  it  is  not  in  strict 
accordance  with  fact  ;  for  St.  Luke,  at  least,  depicts 
the  latter  part  of  Christ's  life  with  even  greater  care 
than  he  bestows  upon  the  earlier  portion. 

The  difficulty  is,  however,  greatly  exaggerated.     It 


LAZARUS.  I  5  I 

is  one  that  belongs  to  all  the  Gospels,  which  are  con- 
fessedly and  designedly  fragmentary,  and  based  upon 
a  common  oral  tradition,  or  derived  from  a  single 
document,  which  itself  is  a  compilation,  and,  as  there 
is  ample  evidence  to  show,  a  very  fragmentary  one. 
Each  of  them  gives  single  narratives  peculiar  to  it- 
self, and  yet  no  one  concludes  that,  because  only  one 
EvangfeHst  records  a  circumstance,  it  must  on  that 
account  be  untrustworthy.  The  difficulty  in  question 
is  also  essentially  a  modern  difficulty,  which  would 
never  have  occurred  to  the  Evangelists  themselves. 
The  disciples  did  not  judge  the  miracles  of  Jesus  by 
the  standards  which  we  arbitrarily  apply,  and  classify 
them  according  to  their  relative  greatness  or  diffi- 
culty of  performance.  We  look  upon  the  raising  of 
the  dead  as  standing  apart  from  all  the  other  mira- 
cles, as  peculiarly  unexampled  and  stupendous  works, 
so  inherently  incredible  as  to  require  an  amount  of 
proof  and  circumstantial  statement  not  needed  in 
the  other  miracles.  But  the  Evangelists  grouped 
together  every  class  of  miracle  without  distinction, 
and  gave  no  more  special  relief  or  emphasis  to  the 
raising  of  the  dead  than  to  the  healing  of  the  sick  or 
to  the  opening  of  the  eyes  of  the  blind.  Indeed,  the 
healing  of  a  demoniac  seems  to  have  left  a  deeper 
impression,  judging  from  the  narratives  of  the  Syn- 
optists,  than  the  restoration  of  a  dead  person.  If 
the   fourth    Evangelist   does   lay   more   stress    upon 


152  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

the  raising  of  Lazaraus  than  upon  any  other  event  in 
the  Ufe  of  our  Lord  —  though,  after  all,  it  is  not 
much  more  circumstantially  and  fully  told  than  his 
own  story  of  the  opening  of  the  eyes  of  the  blind 
man  in  Jerusalem  that  occurred  shortly  before  —  it 
is  not  because  He  is  conforming  to  popular  estimates 
of  degrees  in  miracles,  but  because  the  miracle  was 
wrought,  not  casually  and  incidentally  like  the  others, 
but  specially  and  intentionally,  as  a  sign  manifesting 
the  glory  of  God  and  witnessing  that  Jesus  was  the 
resurrection  and  the  life,  and  revealed  in  itself  and  in 
the  circumstances  connected  with  it  truths  which 
such  a  mind  as  St.  John's  alone  could  adequately  ap- 
preciate and  communicate  to  others.  We  feel  the 
miracle  to  be  greater  than  any  of  the  others,  to  be 
the  crowning  miracle  of  our  Lord's  ministry  on 
earth  ;  but  there  is  not  a  single  expression  in  the 
record  itself  which  calls  our  attention  to  it  as  occu- 
pying that  lofty  position. 

But  although  we  cannot  reach  the  final  solution  of 
the  mystery  in  question,  that  is  xvo  reason  why  we 
should  reject  the  narrative  as  a  mythical  poem,  as  a 
cunningly  devised  fable,  or  a  mere  transmutation  of 
a  sentence  of  Jesus  into  a  history.  It  bears  within 
itself  the  most  convincing  proof  of  its  authenticity. 
It  exhibits  in  its  perfect  artlessness  and  tender  hu- 
manities the  unconscious  touch  of  nature  and  truth. 
No  impartial  reader  but  must  be  deeply  impressed 


LAZARUS.  153 

with  its  accurate  circumstantiality  ;  while  the  mar- 
vellous consistency  and  naturalness  of  all  its  details, 
and  the  beautiful  breathing  human  life  which  it  por- 
trays, cannot  but  powerfully  affect  the  heart.  If  it 
be  not  what  it  claims,  the  record  of  a  wonderful  his- 
torical miracle,  then  we  are  shut  up  to  the  conclusion 
that  it  is  an  amazing  literary  miracle,  which  no  con- 
ditions of  the  time  can  account  for,  and  which  hu- 
man art  in  all  these  enlightened  centuries  has  never 
equalled.  Instead  of  raising  objections,  therefore,  on 
the  ground  of  the  silence  of  the  other  Evangelists, 
we  should  rather  be  thankful  that  one  writer  has  been 
Divinely  led,  for  whatever  reason,  to  preserve  for  us 
this  most  precious  and  significant  incident,  and  to 
dwell  upon  it  with  a  fulness  of  detail  such  as  we 
have  in  almost  no  other  Gospel  narrative.  We  can- 
not treat  a  story  that  reveals  so  much  of  the  heart  of 
God  and  man,  and  that  appeals  to  the  most  sacred 
and  sorrowful  feelings  of  the  human  bosom,  as  some 
have  done,  with  the  cold  disinterested  criticism 
wherewith  we  might  study,  in  its  fossil  form  the 
animal  and  vegetable  life  of  a  long  past  geological 
epoch,  even  although  we  know  that  it  could  bear 
the  severest  scrutiny  of  that  kind  without  injury. 
Touched  to  the  very  soul  by  what  in  it  is  beyond  all 
criticism,  and  truer  than  all  human  science  and  phi- 
losophy, we  kneel  in  awe  and  reverence  and  immeas- 
urable gratitude  upon  the  holy  ground  before  the 
transcendent  revelation, 


154  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

There  are  links  connecting  all  the  Gospels  with 
one  another,  and  one  of  the  most  interesting  of  these 
is  that  which  unites  the  story  of  Lazarus,  as  given 
by  St.  John,  with  the  glimpse  revealed  to  us  of  the 
quiet  family  life  in  Bethany  by  St.  Luke.  St.  John 
presumes  that  his  readers  are  already  acquainted  with 
the  previous  history  of  the  family  ;  and  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  features  in  the  two  narratives  is  the 
coincidence  between  the  characters  of  Martha  and 
Mary,  as  depicted  by  the  two  Evangelists,  —  the  ac- 
tive bustling  solicitude  of  the  one,  and  the  quiet 
earnest  thoughtfulness  of  the  other  ;  a  coincidence 
which  produces  irresistibly  the  conviction  of  the 
truthfulness  of  the  portraiture,  and  proves  that  it  is 
no  ideal  creation  that  is  described,  but  a  living  real- 
ity. The  two  sisters  speak  and  act  throughout  on 
the  occasion  of  the  miracle,  in  the  characteristic  man- 
ner for  which  St.  Luke  had  prepared  us. 

Mary  and  Martha  lived  with  their  brother  Lazarus 
in  the  village  of  Bethany.  Much  that  we  should  like 
to  have  known  regarding  their  previous  history  and 
private  circumstances  has  been  concealed,  and  only 
such  a  glimpse  is  given  to  us  of  their  ordinary  life  as 
to  make  the  wonderful  incident  connected  with  them 
perfectly  intelligible,  and  to  elucidate  the  develojD- 
ment  and  discipline  of  their  spiritual  life.  There  is 
no  provision  made  in  the  Evangelical  history  for  the 
!?iere  gratifying  of  curiosity.     Whether  Martha,  who 


LAZARUS.  155 

was  evidently  the  oldest  member  of  the  family,  was, 
as  some  have  conjectured,  a  widow,  to  whom  the 
house  belonged,  and  with  whom  her  sister  Mary  and 
her  younger  brother  Lazarus  resided  ;  or  whether 
the  sisters  managed  the  household  of  their  brother, 
or  what  were  the  precise  circumstances  and  relations 
which  determined  their  domestic  constitution,  we 
cannot  tell.  Several  things,  such  as  the  entertain- 
ment of  Jesus,  the  number  of  friends  who  came  from 
Jerusalem  to  condole  with  the  sisters,  the  possession 
of  a  burial  vault  of  their  own,  the  alabaster  box  and 
the  ointment  of  spikenard  very  costly,  would  seem  to 
indicate  that  the  social  position,  culture,  and  wealth 
of  the  family  were  much  above  the  average.  With 
this  family  Jesus  had  the  closest  friendship.  Their 
home  afforded  a  quiet  retreat  to  Him  from  the  strife 
of  tongues  and  the  sordid  passions  of  Jerusalem. 
Under  their  roof  He  had  enjoyed  that  refreshing 
sleep  which  God  gives  to  His  beloved  after  the  weary 
toils  and  cares  of  the  day  are  over ;  at  their  hospi- 
table table  He  had  satisfied  those  common  wants  of 
humanity  which  He  shared  with  us  as  partaker  of 
our  nature  ;  by  their  hearth,  when  the  evening  lamp 
was  lit,  they  enjoyed  together  that  communion  of 
heart  and  fellowship  of  holy  thought  which  link  the 
earthly  with  the  heavenly  home.  And,  added  to 
these  human  attractions,  were  those  which  nature 
imparted  to  the  spot.     Jesus,  as  the  type  of  pure  hu- 


156  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

manity,  had  in  its  perfect  form  not  only  the  deep  and 
extended  spiritual  feeling  for  nature  as  the  mask  of 
God,  which  was  the  peculiar  characteristic  of  the 
Hebrew  race,  but  also  the  subtler  and  more  poeti- 
cal love  of  natural  beauty  for  its  own  sake,  which 
belongs  to  the  western  nations  and  to  our  modern 
days.  He  saw  the  true  vision  of  the  hills,  and  felt 
the  deep  soul  of  lonely  places,  and  recognized  the 
glory  in  the  flower  and  the  splendor  in  the  grass. 
And  for  these  feelings  created  by  the  enduring 
beauty  of  nature,  —  which  give  us  a  deep  impres- 
sion of  our  homelessness  and  inspire  our  immortal- 
ity, but  which  deepened  the  rest  of  His  soul,  con- 
scious as  it  ever  was  of  being  at  home  in  a  Father  s 
world,  —  there  was  ample  gratification  furnished  by 
the  scenery  in  the  midst  of  which  Bethany  was  set. 
Situated  only  about  two  miles  from  Jerusalem,  the 
sound  and  sight  of  the  great  city  were  completely 
shut  out  by  the  long  ridge  of  the  Mount  of  Olives  ; 
and  the  view  opened  only  on  the  distant  Peraean 
mountains  blending  into  the  deep  blue  of  the  hori- 
zon, and  in  the  foreground,  on  the  desolate  rocks 
that  hemmed  in  on  every  side  the  steep  descent  to 
the  valley  of  the  Jordan  and  the  shore  of  the  Dead 
Sea,  clothed  with  dark  shadows  of  mystery,  in  keep- 
ing with  the  solemn  associations  of  the  region  —  the 
whole  forming  one  of  the  most  striking  landscapes 
to  be  found  in  the  south  of  Palestine.     Around  this 


LAZARUS.  157 

lonely  mountain-hamlet,  hid  in  its  secluded  nook  like 
a  violet  by  its  leaves,  there  seemed  to  breathe  a 
milder  climate,  favoring  the  productions  of  a  warmer 
zone,  than  that  which  belonged  to  the  bare  exposed 
altitude  of  Jerusalem.  The  modern  village  of  El 
Azariah  —  poor,  ruined,  half-deserted — which  stands 
on  its  traditional  site,  is  embosomed  even  now  among 
richer  verdure  than  any  other  spot  in  the  neighbor- 
hood of  the  Holy  City.  But  the  ancient  village  was 
distinguished  for  even  greater  variety  and  luxuriance 
of  vegetation.  Its  name,  which  signifies  The  house 
of  dates,  indicates  that  the  date-palm  grew  there  ;  a 
circumstance  which  is  still  further  confirmed  by  the 
palm-branches  which  the  multitude  tore  down  from 
the  trees  and  strewed  in  the  triumphal  path  of  Jesus. 
This  desert-tree,  elsewhere  unknown  on  the  high 
temperate  table-land  which  forms  the  main  portion 
of  Palestine,  and  confined  to  the  sheltered  tropical 
valley  of  the  Jordan,  must  have  formed  a  most  beau- 
tiful and  striking  feature  in  the  scene,  investing  it 
with  a  peculiar  oriental  charm.  The  orange  and 
pomegranate  clustered  then  as  now  around  the  dwell- 
ings, while  the  fig-tree  cast  its  broad  cool  shadows 
over  the  gleaming  pathways.  To  the  susceptible 
heart  of  Jesus  all  the  beautiful  sights  and  sounds  of 
the  lonely  village  were  natural  ministers,  bringing 
with  them  a  deeper  consciousness  of  Divine  love 
and  heaven.     He  understood  their  mystic  inarticu- 


1 58  THREE  RAIS/A'GS  EROM   THE  DEAD. 

late  speech,  and  read  their  open  secret,  and  had  in 
the  enjoyment  of  them,  as  the  second  Adam,  refresh- 
ing and  strengthening  communion  with  the  Lord 
God  who  walked  with  Him  in  this  garden  in  the  cool 
of  the  day. 

In  sacred  geography  Bethany  is  known  as  the  town 
of  Mary  and  her  sister  Martha,  just  as  Bethsaida  is 
known  as  the  city  of  Andrew  and  Peter.  No  doubt 
it  was  so  designated,  in  the  first  place,  to  distinguish 
it  from  another  Bethany  beyond  Jordan,  where  John 
the  Baptist  had  begun  his  ministr)^,  and  to  which 
Jesus  had  retired  because  of  the  persecution  of  the 
Jews  ;  but  there  is  a  higher  and  more  tender  reason 
for  this  peculiar  mode  of  identification.  Whatever 
other  claims  to  notice  Bethany  possessed,  on  the 
score  of  the  beauty  and  peacefulness  of  its  situation, 
the  position  and  character  of  its  inhabitants,  and  any 
associations  connected  with  it,  they  were  all  absorbed 
in  the  one  prominent  fact  that  Mary  and  Martha 
lived  there.  The  village  was  made  specially  interest- 
ing to  Jesus  on  account  of  that  circumstance  alone. 
It  was  the  affection  of  the  sisters  that  endeared  the 
spot  to  Him,  and  made  it,  to  His  mind,  their  own 
town,  as  if  it  had  no  other  inhabitants  or  owners. 
And  truly  the  love  of  Jesus  to  them  has  invested  the 
spot  with  a  renown  greater  far  than  is  possessed  by 
any  birthplace  of  genius,  or  any  scene  of  human  her- 
oism.    There  are  Meccas  of  the  mind  and  homes  of 


LAZARUS. 


59 


the  heart  which  derive  all  their  interest  from  their 
connection  with  some  noble  thought,  or  tender  feel- 
ing, or  splendid  deed.  To  all  of  us  the  scenes  of 
earth  are  precious  only  because  of  their  association 
with  some  one  we  love.  Take  away  that  association, 
and  we  feel  ourselves  homeless  in  the  very  scenes  of 
our  birth.  America  and  Australia  are  to  us  unknown 
and  uninteresting  countries,  until  some  friend  has 
gone  there,  and  drawn  our  thoughts  and  affections  to 
them.  How  desolate  and  lonely  is  the  city  in  which 
we  know  no  one  ;  it  has  no  connection  with  our  life, 
it  is  a  strange  and  alien  place.  But  let  us  form  a 
tender  tie  there,  and  henceforth  it  is  known  to  us 
and  loved  by  us  as  the  home  of  our  friend.  It  is 
love  that  baptizes  and  gives  a  name  to  every  haunt 
of  men,  and  every  scene  of  nature  ;  and  all  the  inter- 
est and  charm  which  any  town  or  country  possesses, 
radiate  from  some  glowing  hearth  of  friendship,  or 
are  reflected  from  looks  that  we  love.  Between 
Mary  and  the  place  of  her  residence  there  seems 
to  be  a  harmony,  which  must  have  been  present  to 
the  thought  of  the  Evangelist  when  he  places  her 
name  before  that  of  her  sister  in  speaking  of  this 
beautiful  proprietorship  of  the  heart.  Nowhere  else, 
we  feel,  could  such  a  musing  gentle  soul  have  grown 
up,  than  in  such  a  quiet  and  lonely  mountain  village. 
The  scenery,  and  the  home  in  the  midst  of  it,  the 
town  of  Mary,  and  the  heart  and  mind  of  Mary,  were 
wonderfully  fitted  to  each  other. 


l60  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

But  a  day  came  when  a  dark  shadow  which  no  hght 
can  exclude,  or  rather  which  the  hght  of  human  love 
itself  casts  —  for  what  enriches  and  sweetens  life  the 
most  also  saddens  it  the  most  —  fell  upon  that  peace- 
ful and  pious  home.  Lazarus  was  stricken  down  with 
one  of  those  sharp  malignant  fevers  of  Palestine 
which  break  out  suddenly  and  pursue  their  course 
rapidly.  From  the  first  the  dangerous  nature  of  the 
sickness  was  apparent.  If  efficient  help,  therefore,  is 
to  be  obtained,  no  time  must  be  lost.  In  their  sore 
extremity  the  sorrowing  sisters  sent  for  Him  who  had 
perhaps  already  proved  Himself  to  be  to  them  the 
Brother  born  for  adversity,  the  Saviour  of  Israel  in 
the  time  of  trouble,  or  who,  at  all  events,  as  they  well 
knew,  had  manifested  Himself  as  such  to  many 
others.  Jesus  at  this  time  was  far  away  among  the 
deep  defiles  of  the  Peraean  hills,  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Jordan,  having  withdrawn  thither  to  avoid  the 
active  hostility  of  His  enemies.  He  had  gone  to  the 
place  where  His  public  ministry  was  inaugurated  by 
the  baptism  of  John,  who  first  proclaimed  Him  to  be 
the  Lamb  of  God  which  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the 
v/orld.  His  life,  after  all  its  mighty  developments 
and  achievements,  had  gone  back  to  the  place  from 
which  it  started.  He  made  this  deepest  retrogres- 
sion before  manifesting  His  highest  glory  in  the 
coming  miracle.  But  the  place  of  His  concealment 
was  widely  known,  for  Jesus  could  not  be  hid,  and 


LAZARUS.  l6l 

many  resorted  to  Him  there  and  experienced  such 
benefits  from  His  hands  as  induced  ihem  to  believe 
in  Him.  The  message  sent  to  Him  in  this  distant 
spot  from  the  sorrow-stricken  home  of  Bethany  is 
extremely  touching  in  its  brevity  and  simplicity. 
"  Lord,  behold  he  whom  Thou  lovest  is  sick."  They 
did  not  ask  Him  to  come  and  see  them  at  once. 
They  did  not  plead  the  urgency  of  the  case,  or  ap- 
peal to  His  pity  and  help.  They  did  not  dictate  to 
Him  what  He  should  do.  They  left  Him  to  the  per- 
fect freedom  of  love,  to  fulfil  the  unassisted  prompt- 
ings of  His  own  tender  nature.  They  had  the  utmost 
confidence,  not  only  in  His  ability,  but  willingness 
to  help  them  ;  they  knew  that  He  would  share  their 
sadness  with  them,  and  bear  their  sorrow  as  His  own. 
And  therefore  the  simple  announcement  of  their  ne- 
cessity they  thought  was  sufficient.  They  judged  by 
the  fulness  of  their  own  heart  of  what  must  occupy 
His  ;  and  they  knew  that  He  was  one  who  needed 
not  that  all  the  details  and  circumstances  of  their 
trouble  should  be  opened  out  to  Him. 

Very  beautiful  and  profound  is  the  way  in  which 
they  worded  their  message.  They  did  not  say,  "  He 
who  loves  Thee  is  sick."  They  drew  the  silent 
motive  to  constrain  Jesus,  not  from  any  selfish  feel- 
ing, but  from  the  purest  and  most  disinterested. 
They  knew  the  ardent  love  that  their  brother  cher- 
ished   towards   Jesus  ;   and    they   might   well    have 


1 62  THREE  RAISINGS  EROM    HIE  DEAD. 

urged  Him  to  come  to  their  help  on  that  plea.  But, 
with  the  wonderful  insight  and  delicacy  of  love,  they 
rose  above  all  personal  considerations,  tender  and 
powerful  as  these  might  be,  and  appealed  directly  to 
Jesus'  own  heart.  "  He  whom  Thoti  lovest  is  sick." 
He  who  said,  in  regard  to  external  gifts  and  bless- 
ings, that  it  is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive, 
meant  that  profound  saying  to  apply  in  its  fullest  ex- 
tent to  all  things,  and  most  specially  to  the  affections 
of  the  heart.  To  be  loved  is  precious,  but  to  love  is 
far  better.  The  power  of  loving  is  the  noblest  capac- 
ity and  purest  and  deepest  joy  which  is  known  to  a 
human  spirit,  whatever  may  be  the  return  that  is 
made  to  it.  Jesus  loves  the  objects  of  His  Divine 
friendship  from  the  very  fulness  of  His  own  infinite 
heart,  and  not  because  of  their  love.  He  came  not 
to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister ;  and  therefore 
He  loves  us,  not  for  what  we  do  for  Him,  but  for 
what  He  does  for  us.  It  is  difficult  for  our  cold  hard 
hearts  to  enter  into  this  Divine  feeling.  We  are 
naturally  disposed  to  form  our  ideas  of  our  Redeemer 
from  materials  which  we  find  within  ourselves  ;  and 
being,  as  we  are,  in  our  fallen  state,  not  only  poor, 
but  selfish,  we  are  slow  of  heart  to  believe  in  the  all- 
sufficiency  of  Divine  love  which  wants  nothing  for 
itself,  —  in  that  freely-moving  disinterested  goodness 
which  has  no  ends  of  its  own  to  gain,  but  dispenses, 
looking  for  nothing  again.     Upon  our  natural  aver- 


LAZARUS.  163 

sion  to  believe  the  simple  and  all-comprehensive  truth 
that  God   is  love,  is  built   up  all  notions   of  merit. 
We  think  we  must  give  to  God  some  price  or  equiva- 
lent for  His  blessing.     We  imagine  that  He  loves  us 
only  because  we  love  Him  ;  that  He  does  us  good 
only  because  we  worship  and  serve  Him,  and  give  up 
some  valuable  consideration  for  His  sake.    Oh !  when 
shall  we  learn  the  blessed  truth  contained    in    the 
sisters'  message,  and  which  passes  before  us  in  lines 
of  living  light  on  almost   every  page  of   Scripture! 
When   shall  we  be  able   to  believe  that  God   com- 
mendeth  His  love  to  us,  in  that  while  ive  were  yet 
sinners  —  while  we  had  no  thought  or  feeling  of  an- 
swering love  to  Him  — while  we  were  ahenated  and 
rebelHous  —  He  gave  us  the  highest  proof  of  love,  in 
that  Christ  died  for  us.     When  shall  we  make  our 
^appeal  in  prayer  to  Him,  not  on  the  ground  of  our 
own  love,  but  on  the  ground  of    His  ;  and  implore 
His  aid  for  His  own  mercy's  sake,  confident  that  He 
who  spared  not  His  own  Son  will  not  withhold  from 
us  any  good  thing. 

Is  there  not  something  in  the  very  form  and  tone 
of  the  words,  "  Lord,  behold  he  whom  Thou  lovest  is 
sick,"  which  speaks  to  us  of  that  calmness  in  danger 
and  that  serenity  in  sorrow,  we  should  antecedently 
expect  from  such  a  pious  household.  We  see  no 
rush  of  feeling  which  cannot  be  controlled  ;  we  hear 
no   useless    lamentation.      That   they  felt   in    their 


164  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM    THE   DEAD. 

severe  affliction  with  all  a  sister's  tenderness  we  can- 
not possibly  doubt,  for  the  attachment  of  all  the 
members  of  the  family  to  each  other  was  peculiarly 
deep  and  devoted.  And  yet,  at  a  crisis,  when  those 
who  felt  far  less  would  have  lost  all  fortitude,  they 
maintained  the  most  admirable  composure.  They 
adopted  at  once  the  simplest  and  wisest  plan  the 
case  admitted  of.  The  effect  of  righteousness  in 
their  experience  was  what  it  is  in  every  case,  quiet- 
ness and  assurance.  They  had  breathed  so  long  the 
atmosphere  of  heavenly  peace,  of  the  source  and 
centre  of  repose,  that  tranquillity  became  the  very 
element  of  their  soul  ;  and  now,  when  the  sudden 
storm  arose,  the  still  small  voice  within  bade  the 
rising  waves  be  still.  And  so  is  it  always  ;  the  soul 
that  is  stayed  on  God  is  anchored  by  an  inward  calm 
whenever,  and  in  proportion  to  the  degree  in  which, 
all  is  consternation  and  alarm  around  it.  Those 
whom  Divine  love  has  taught,  and  enabled  to  feel 
most  deeply  and  lastingly,  are  always  ready  and  able 
to  act  the  part  which  duty  and  affection  require ;  and 
when  all  that  the  occasion  demands  has  been  done 
and  has  failed,  and  not  till  then,  nature  takes  its 
course,  and  the  tears  of  sorrow  flow.  How  different 
from  those  who  have  no  such  inward  trustfulness  or 
heavenly  steadfastness,  and  who  are  therefore  tossed 
up  and  down  by  the  waves,  when  some  critical  emer- 
gency comes,  yielding  to  every  impulse  of  fear  and 
dread,  and  completely  unmanned  by  emotion  ! 


LAZARUS.  165 

When  Jesus  heard  the   message,  He  said,  "This 
sickness  is  not  unto  death,  but  for  the  glory  of  God, 
that  the  Son  of    God  might    be   glorified   thereby." 
To  the  disciples  in  whose  hearing  He  uttered  them, 
these  words  must  have  seemed  at  the  time  the  words 
of  one  upon  whom  the  truth  flashed  not  at  once,  but 
dawned  by  degrees.     They  understood  their  meaning 
afterwards,  but  at  the  time  such  must  have  been  the 
impression  which  they  produced.     And  there  are  not 
wanting  individuals  who,  interpreting  them  in   that 
light,    have    brought   them   forward   as    unidvorable 
to  the  pretensions  of    Christ  to  Divine   knowledge. 
They  accuse  Him  of  predicting  a  false  issue.     It  is 
evident,  however,  that  the  saying  was  uttered  vdth 
reference  to  the  restoration  of  Lazarus,  which  Jesus, 
who  knew  the  end  from  the  beginning,  already  be- 
held  in    spirit   as  accomphshed.     The   obscure  and 
enigmatical  form  in  which  it  was  put,  was  doubtless 
caused  by  Christ's  design  regarding  the  perfecting  of 
the  faith  of  the  sisters  ;  for  the  words,  while  spoken 
in   the  hearing  of   the  disciples,  were  addressed  to 
the  messenger,  and  were  evidently  meant  to  be  the 
answer  which  he  should  carry  back  to  Bethany.     It 
was  part  of  the  same  process  of  discipline  with  the 
delay  which  He  made  in  coming  to  the  assistance  of 
His  friends.     Sorely  must  the  words  of  Jesus,  when 
repeated   to   the    sisters,  have  preplexed  them.     By 
the   time   the   answer  reached   them  Lazarus   must 


1 66  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

have  been  dead.  How  were  they  to  interpret 
Christ's  confident  assurance  that  the  issue  of  the 
sickness  would  not  be  fatal,  when  in  their  dark- 
ened home  was  the  terrible  confutation.  Could 
He  have  deceived  them  ;  or  could  He  Himself  have 
been  deceived  ?  Was  He  after  all  He  who  should 
come  possessed  of  Divine  knowledge  and  power, 
or  had  they  to  look  in  their  desolation  for  another  ? 
Thoughts  like  these  must  have  passed  through  the 
mind  of  Mary  and  Martha  as  they  kept  the  lonely 
and  mournful  vigil  of  death,  and  must  have  greatly 
disturbed  their  confidence  in  their  Friend.  Like 
the  mother  of  Jesus,  a  sword  would  pierce  their 
hearts,  driven  by  the  very  Hand  that  would  have 
shielded  them  from  all  harm.  An  inward  conflict 
began  in  their  souls  regarding  the  character  and 
claims  of  Jesus,  out  of  which  rich  issues  afterwards 
unfolded  themselves,  but  which  at  the  time  must 
have  been  very  grievous.  The  long  trial  of  their 
faith  was  begun  in  the  fire,  not  only  of  the  sorrow 
of  bereavement,  but  of  that  worst  of  all  sorrows, 
religious  doubt.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  the 
mental  anguish,  now  tending  to  faith  and  now  to 
denial,  alternating  between  fear  and  the  defiance  of 
fear,  caused  by  the  difificulty  of  reconciling  the  words 
of  Jesus  with  the  actual  event,  was  keener  even  than 
the  natural  grief  at  their  brother's  loss.  More  pre- 
cious than  gold  that  perisheth  was  the  faith  destined 


LAZARUS.  167 

to  arise  out  of  that  fiery  trial.  We  see  the  com- 
mencement of  the  process  of  purification,  and  we  can 
almost  notice  a  gleam  of  hope  kindling  in  the  dark- 
ness of  the  brother's  death,  and  the  greater  darkness 
of  the  Saviour's  words  and  the  Saviour's  absence. 
They  were  being  prepared  for  the  precious  full-orbed 
truth  of  the  words  when  they  should  be  fulfilled  ; 
for  the  time  when  they  should  find  an  echo  of  them 
in  their  own  hearts  ;  and  they  should  acknowledge 
with  adoring  gratitude  that  the  sickness  of  their  be- 
loved brother  was  not  indeed  unto  death,  but  was 
the  birth-pangs  and  transition  process  into  a  higher 
life,  and  the  dark  background  against  which  the 
glory  of  God  in  Christ  should  be  seen  by  the  world 
in  greater  clearness  and  fulness  than  it  had  yet  been 
revealed. 

That  the  sickness  was  intended  not  merely  for  the 
unfolding  of  the  Redeemer's  glory  to  the  world,  but 
also  as  a  means  of  quickening  the  spiritual  life  of 
Lazarus  himself,  we  cannot  doubt.  The  glory  of  the 
outward  miracle  of  providence  was  designed  to  be 
the  sign  and  symbol  of  the  more  wonderful  inward 
miracle  of  grace.  Little  is  revealed  to  us  of  the 
character  of  Lazarus.  He  is  one  of  the  "  silent  lives 
of  Scripture."  But  the  fact  that  Jesus  loved  him 
indicated  that  he  must  have  been  a  man  of  high 
spiritual  susceptibility,  whose  soul  was  a  sanctuary 
for  the  deeper  and  holier  thoughts  that  transfigure 


1 68  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

our  nature.  But,  like  Jacob,  he  may  have  had  some 
dross  mixed  with  the  sfold  which  needed  the  refinins; 
furnace  of  suffering.  His  faith  needed  the  quicken- 
ing of  some  strong  excitement,  some  great  and  start- 
ling crisis  in  his  life.  His  nature,  like  that  of  many 
who  are  weak  and  frail  from  their  very  amiability 
and  loveableness,  required  to  be  strengthened  by  a 
sharp  discipline  of  pain,  as  a  sheet  of  white  blotting 
paper,  which  scarcely  hangs  together,  is  made  as 
tough  as  parchment  by  immersion  in  sulphuric  acid. 
It  has  been  suggested  that  Lazarus  may  be  identified 
by  many  very  striking  coincidences  with  the  young 
ruler  whom  Jesus  loved.  Of  none  other  in  the  gos- 
pel history,  save  the  beloved  disciple  and  the  family 
of  Bethany,  is  that  emphatic  expression  used.  The 
answer  given  to  the  young  ruler  '"  One  thing  thou 
lackest,"  finds  a  corresponding  echo  in  the  words 
spoken  to  Martha,  "  One  thing  is  needful,"  and  are 
evidently  indicative  of  the  same  spiritual  condition. 
The  reverential  attitude  and  salutation  of  the  young 
iMler  when  he  came  to  Jesus,  the  stainless  purity  of 
his  outward  life,  his  eager  yearning  after  eternal  life, 
and  the  feeling  of  a  want  which  obedience  to  the  law 
failed  to  satisfy  —  all  these  were  personal  traits  such 
as  we  should  have  expected  to  find  in  the  brother  of 
her  who  had  sat  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  and  chosen 
the  good  part.  His  wealth  and  influence  also  agree 
with  those  which,  we  have  every  reason  to  believe, 


LAZARUS.  169 

Lazarus  possessed.  It  may  be  argued  against  this 
supposition  that  the  young  ruler  went  away  grieved, 
without  fulfiUing  the  condition  prescribed,  and  that 
Jesus  allowed  him  to  go  away.  But  surely  there  is 
no  necessity  for  construing  the  silence  of  Scripture 
regarding  his  after  fate  into  evidence  of  his  final  re- 
jection. There  is  no  foundation  for  the  vivid  picture 
which  Dante  in  his  Inferno  presents  of  him,  as  blown 
about  like  an  autumn  leaf  on  the  borders  of  the  other 
world,  rejected  by  heaven  and  despised  by  hell,  "the 
shade  of  him  who  made,  through  cowardice,  the 
great  refusal  "  :  — 

"  L'ombra  di  colui 
Che  fece  per  viltate  il  gran  rifiuto." 

We  can  hardly  suppose  that  he  would  be  allowed  to 
perish  in  the  enfolding  embrace  of  Christ's  love  ;  that 
any  one  in  whom  Jesus  felt  such  a  profound  interest 
would  be  permitted  to  disappear  into  the  outer  dark- 
ness, without  some  further  effort  being  made  to  save 
him.  It  would  be  inconsistent  with  the  whole  char- 
acter and  conduct  of  Christ.  That  would  be  a  harsh 
creed,  indeed,  which  could  easily  reconcile  itself  to 
the  idea  that  so  noble  and  beautiful  a  soul  had  made 
utter  shipwreck  of  life  ;  that  the  love  which  Jesus 
cherished  towards  him,  v/ith  all  the  yearning  pity  and 
the  fervent  prayer  which  it  implied,  was  utterly 
wasted.  Rather  should  we  expect  that,  after  a  brief 
interval  of   hesitation   and    reflection,  he  who    went 


I/D  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

away  grieved  again  sought  Jesus  for  the  rest  of  soul 
which  he  could  find  nowhere  else ;  and  that  some 
way  of  escape  was  provided  for  him  out  of  all  his 
difficulties  into  the  fold  of  salvation.  Christ's  own 
words  in  connection  with  his  departure,  as  Dr. 
Plumptre  has  well  observed,  may  be  looked  upon  in 
the  light  of  a  prophecy  of  his  return,  "With  God  all 
things  are  possible,"  and  "  There  are  last  which  sha'l 
be  first"  We  may  cherish  the  hope  from  these 
words  that  the  young  ruler,  whose  great  riches  stood 
in  the  way  of  his  spiritual  blessing,  had  been  enabled 
to  overcome  the  obstacle  at  last,  and  had  actually  en- 
tered, however  hardly,  into  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Could  we  adopt  this  hypothesis  of  the  identity  of 
the  young  ruler  with  Lazarus,  it  would  explain  much 
that  is  involved  in  deepest  obscurity.  We  should 
have  revealed  to  us  the  origin  of  the  intimacy  of 
Jesus  with  the  family  of  Bethany,  and  we  should  un- 
derstand more  perfectly  the  reason  why  the  sickness 
of  Lazarus  was  not  unto  death,  but  for  the  glory  of 

'God.  If  Lazarus  was  the  young  ruler,  he  needed 
indeed  the  peculiar  discipline  of  affliction  to  which 
he  was  subjected.  Uninterrupted  prosperity  had 
hitherto  crowned  his  life  with  its  blessings.  He  had 
high  position  in  the  church  and  worjd,  he  had  social 
influence  and  wealth,  he  had  religious  respect  and 
the  deep  devotion  of  loving  hearts  who  looked  upon 

xhim  with  pride,  and  he  had  all  the  fresh  ardent  feel- 


LAZARUS.  171 

ings  and  high  hopes  of  youth,  with  a  long  bright 
career  before  him.  Bat  there  was  a  want  about  him 
which  uniform,  long-continued  prosperity  produces 
in  every  man  ;  a  hardness,  a  selfishness,  a  worldli- 
ness,  which  impaired  the  bloom  of  his  nobler  quali- 
ties and  corroded  his  inner  life.  The  searching  eye 
of  Jesus  discovered  one  dark  plague-spot  on  the 
beautiful  bloom  of  the  fruit,  which,  if  allowed  to 
grow  and  spread,  would  reduce  it  to  a  mass  of  cor- 
ruption. Something  within  him  clung  with  a  tena- 
cious grasp  to  the  pleasant  attractions  of  his  wealth 
and  honor ;  while  his  soul  was  crying  for  God,  the 
living  God,  and  could  find  no  true  rest,  no  pure  joy 
but  in  Him.  For  this  state  of  things  some  remedy, 
"  impossible  indeed  with  man,  but  possible  with 
God,"  must  be  provided.  What  the  loving  looks  and 
gracious  acts  of  Jesus  failed  to  mend,  required  to  be 
corrected  with  the  stern  rod  of  chastisement.  And 
he  who  could  not  be  weaned  from  the  love  of  his 
possessions  to  follow  Christ  fully  and  heartily  by  the 
loving  voice  of  the  Good  Teacher,  must  learn  in  sore 
sickness  the  utter  worthlessness  of  these  possessions 
to  satisfy  the  cravings  of  his  nature  ;  and,  abandon- 
ng  them  in  death,  must  resume  them  again  in  his 
resurrection  as  a  treasure  of  which  he  is  only  the 
steward,  as  a  sacrifice  laid  upon  the  altar  of  God, 
and  which  therefore  could  never  more  be  perverted 
to  any  selfish  or  sinful  use. 


172  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

"  Now  Jesus  loved  Martha,  and  her  sister,  and 
Lazarus.  When  He  had  learned,  therefore,  that  he 
was  sick,  He  abode  two  days  still  in  the  same  place 
where  He  was."  We  are  not  told  the  reason  of  the 
delay.  Some  have  conjectured  that  it  was  occa- 
sioned by  His  unwillingness  to  leave  His  present 
sphere  of  labor.  He  had  found  beyond  Jordan  such 
a  fertile  field  of  usefulness,  that  He  would  not  relin- 
quish spiritual  objects  for  the  sake  of  rendering 
mere  corporeal  assistance.  But  this  must  strike 
every  thoughtful  mind  as  a  very  insufficient  reason. 
It  is  perfectly  evident,  from  Christ's  own  words,  that 
He  was  not  detained  in  opposition  to  His  own  wish 

—  that  there  was  no  local  necessity  urging  Him  to 
remain.  He  voluntary  deferred  His  journey,  know- 
ing the  issues  that  hung  upon  it  ;  and  the  Evangel- 
ist connects  that  voluntary  delay  of  Jesus  with  the 
love  which  He  bore  to  the  whole  family  of  Bethany 

—  to  the  dead  brother  as  well  as  to  the  living  sisters. 
We  must  therefore  conclude  that  His  refusal  to 
grant  the  letter  of  their  prayer,  was  meant  to  be  the 
fulfilment  of  the  spirit  of  it  ;  the  fulfilment  of  it  in  a 
higher  form.  This- delay  was  intended,  we  may  well 
believe,  to  assist  the  faith  of  Martha  and  Mary,  and 
to  complete  the  process  which  His  enigmatical  words 
began.  He  meant  to  bestow  upon  them  a  higher 
blessing  than  the  mere  physical  restoration  of  their 
brother,  and  for  that  higher  blessing  they  were  not 


LAZARUS.  173 

yet  ready.  They  needed  the  discipUne  of  waiting, 
of  patience,  and  trustfulness.  Jesus  acted  towards 
them  as  He  acted  towards  the  Syro-Phenician 
woman,  keeping  back  for  a  while  what  He  was  wait- 
ing and  willing  to  give,  in  order  by  repression,  like 
the  restraint  put  upon  a  steel  spring,  to  give  a  pow- 
erful stimulus  to  the  energy  of  their  spiritual  life. 

How  dreary  and  desolate  must  have  been  that  long 
interval  to  the  lonely  sisters  in  Bethany !  How 
strange  and  unaccountable  must  have  seemed  the 
absence  and  neglect  of  Jesus  !  Did  no  hard  thoughts 
of  Him  pass  through  their  minds  }  The  fever  in- 
creased in  violence  until  at  last  it  snapt  the  silver 
cord,  and  broke  the  golden  bowl  at  the  fountain. 
Death,  outrunning  love,  came  instead  of  the  Life. 
We  can  suppose  Mary  sitting  still  in  the  house  be- 
side the  bed  on  which  her  brother  had  breathed  his 
last,  and  wondering  at  the  absence  of  Jesus,  until 
faith  itself  was  on  the  point  of  swooning  in  the 
vacant  gloom.  And  we  can  picture  Martha  going 
out  to  the  rocky  path  that  led  down  the  deep  de- 
scent to  the  Jordan,  looking  earnestly  and  wistfully 
over  the  distant  prospect,  shading  her  eyes  with  her 
hands,  and  brushing  away  the  frequent  tear  that  she 
may  see  more  clearly.  We  can  see  her  in  fancy 
watching  and  waiting  hour  after  hour,  glancing  down 
the  long  reaches  of  the  white  road,  with  a  thrill  of 
expectation  as  some  lonely  figure   comes  into  view 


174  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

far  away,  and  with  a  heavy  sinking  of  the  heart  as 
the  figure  approaches  and  shows  a  stranger  and  not 
the  eagerly  expected  one.  Oh !  this  tarrying  was 
severe  and  unaccountable  to  the  sisters,  but  it  was 
the  gracious  discipline  of  Divine  love.  Out  of  this 
bitter  root  was  to  spring  up  a  beautiful  blossom  and 
a  delicious  fruit. 

And  is  it  not  often  so  in  the  experience  of  God's 
people  still }  In  the  season  of  affliction  how  fre- 
quently does  the  sore  struggle  last  through  long 
hours  of  darkness  !  Through  the  weary  watches  of 
the  night  how  often  is  the  cry  heard,  "Oh  !  that  the 
day  would  break,  and  the  shadows  flee  away."  God 
does  not  deliver  His  people  in  the  first  moment  of 
danger,  when  the  first  wail  of  the  tempest  is  heard 
and  their  feet  are  merely  dipped  in  the  foaming 
billows  that  lash  the  shore.  He  permits  them  to 
sink  in  deep  waters  and  all  His  billows  to  go  over 
their  soul  before  He  comes  to  their  rescue.  He 
does  not  allow  them  merely  to  be  brought  to  the 
brink  of  the  furnace  of  affliction  ;  He  permits  them 
to  be  placed  in  the  midst  of  the  flames,  in  the  hot- 
test core  of  it,  and  leaves  them  there  until  the  an- 
guish becomes  almost  insupportable.  He  not  merely 
places  the  cross  of  trial  upon  their  shoulders  for  a 
moment,  that  they  may  feel  its  weight  and  sharpness, 
but  He  leaves  it  upon  them  day  and  night ;  He  com- 
mands them  to  carry  it  for  weeks  and  months,  and 


LAZARUS.  175 

sometimes  even  years,  until  they  are  so  bowed  down 
under  the  weight  that  they  cannot  look  up.  This 
seems  strange  procedure  on  the  part  of  God  to  the 
natural  eye.  It  seems  inconsistent  with  the  love  and 
tenderness  of  One  who  is  touched  with  a  fellow-feel- 
ing of  our  infirmities,  and  who  in  all  our  afflictions 
is  afflicted,  to  treat  His  people  in  this  manner.  One 
would  naturally  suppose  that  His  very  love  for  them, 
His  very  sympathy  with  them  in  their  trial  and  dan- 
ger, would  prompt  Him  immediately  to  interpose  ; 
that  He  could  not  bear  to  look  on  while  they  were 
suffering  without  stretching  forth  His  hand  to  re- 
lieve. God  is  said  to  be  a  Father  who  pitieth  His 
children,  knowing  the  frailty  of  their  frames,  and  yet 
He  suffers  them  to  endure  what  no  earthly  father 
would  permit.  Were  a  father  to  see  his  son  in  dan- 
ger, he  would  waste  not  a  moment  in  running  to  his 
assistance.  The  mother  does  not  wait  till  the  last 
extremity  before  rescuing  her  child.  At  the  first  cry 
of  alarm  she  flies  to  succor.  And  is  Christ  less  piti- 
ful, less  loving. '^  No  !  He  is  more  truly  tender  and 
merciful  than  any  earthly  relation,  and  his  tender- 
ness and  mercy  are  shown  niore  by  delaying  than  by- 
hastening  to  deliver.  Were  He  to  regard  merely  our 
temporal  happiness.  He  would  remove  the  trial  as 
soon  as  we  felt  its  sharpness.  He  would  act  as  we 
naturally  wish  Him  to  do  ;  for  man  is  impatient  of 
evil,  fumes  and  frets  under  it,  is  anxious  to  be  deUv- 


1/6  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

ered  from  it  as  speedily  as  possible,  regards  it  as  the 
element  above  all  others  he  would  wish  away,  that 
which  stands  out  against  him  as  repugnant  and  su- 
perfluous. But  Christ,  in  leaving  us  under  the 
power  of  trial  for  a  time,  in  allowing  us  to  be  tossed 
up  and  down  in  Adria  for  many  starless  and  moon- 
less nights,  in  suffering  us  to  contend  till  the  fourth 
watch  of  the  night  v/ith  contrary  winds  and  drench- 
ing seas,  consults  our  interests,  not  our  wishes,  our 
highest  and  lasting  good,  and  not  our  temporary  con- 
venience. He  wishes  us  to  lose  our  life  that  we  may 
gain  it.  It  is  the  discipline  of  w^aiting  to  suffer  and 
grow  strong  ;  and  in  proportion  to  the  length  of  the 
waiting  will  be  the  benefit  conferred.  It  is  well  for 
us,  through  this  wise  delay  on  the  part  of  Jesus  to 
come  to  our  help,  to  feel  our  own  weakness  and  in- 
sufficiency by  a  thorough  testing  of  our  own  powers, 
to  look  on  our  right  hand  and  left,  and  find  no  suc- 
cor ;  for  then,  in  that  hour  of  our  own  extremity,  in 
the  fourth  watch  of  our  night  of  trouble,  Christ  will 
come  over  the  raging  billows  —  no  spectre,  but  a 
blessed  Divine  Saviour,  able  and  wilUng  to  save  to 
the  uttermost,  whispering  words  of  peace  and  com- 
fort to  our  souls,  "  It  is  I,  be  not  afraid." 

And  how  is  Jesus  occupied  during  this  delay,  while 
we  are  contending  with  the  storm  of  trouble  }  How 
was  He  engaged  when  the  disciples  were  in  the 
midst  of  the  Sea  of  Galilee  in  peril  of  their  lives  ? 


LAZARUS.  177 

We  are  told  that  He  was  alone  on  the  shore,  pouring 
forth  His  soul  in  prayer.  Strange  picture  ;  wonder- 
ful contrast  !  That  solitary  figure  kneeling  under  the 
stars,  and  casting  His  shadow  before  Him  on  the 
brow  of  the  mountain,  calmly  holding  high  commune 
with  His  Heavenly  Father ;  and  that  group  of  pale- 
faced,  terror-stricken  disciples  far  out  on  the  foaming 
sea,  struggling  for  dear  life  with  the  furious  storm  ! 
Oh  !  how  the  thought  is  fitted  to  encourage  us  to 
wait  with  patience  till  the  fourth  watch  of  the  night 
comes  — though  the  waters  swell  high  and  the  winds 
roar  loud  —  the  thought  that  Jesus  is  interceding  for 
us.  While  we  are  struggling  with  the  billows  of  time, 
He  is  on  the  eternal  shore,  hidden  by  the  veil  of 
darkness  that  separates  this  world  from  the  next  ; 
He  is  on  the  mount  of  God,  on  the  right  hand  of  the 
throne,  praying  for  us  that  we  may  be  strengthened 
and  upheld  and  made  conquerors  and  more  than  con- 
querors. He  is  watching  us  from  that  elevated 
standing-point  which  no  storm  can  ever  reach.  His 
eye  marks  the  rise  of  every  billow  and  the  shrinking 
of  every  nerve.  He  knows  our  frame  ;  He  remem- 
bers that  we  are  dust.  He  knows  the  force  of  every 
storm  we  encounter,  the  strength  of  every  tempta- 
tion that  assails  us,  the  weariness  and  anguish  of 
every  trial  that  is  laid  upon  us.  He  has  felt  all  that 
we  can  feel  ;  and  therefore  He  will  not  suffer  us 
to  be  tempted  above  what  we  are  able  to  bear,  but 


1/8  THREE  RAISIXGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

with  every  trial  will  provide  a  way  of  escape.  You 
think  and  say,  under  the  pressure  of  your  trial,  '*  Be- 
hold and  see  if  there  be  any  sorrow  like  unto  my 
sorrow  ;  "  but  there  is  no  speciality  or  originality  in 
it.  It  has  been  borne  by  thousands,  and  borne  by 
Him  who  is  our  Forerunner  in  suffering  ;  who  is  the 
Prince  of  sufferers.  It  is  the  fellowship  of  His  suf- 
ferings that  we  are  required  to  share.  And  how  does 
His  sympathy  add  intensity  and  point  to  His  inter- 
cession for  us.  The  fact  that  He  feels  all  that  we 
feel,  that  He  has  passed  through  the  same  trials  that 
are  desolating  our  souls,  and  the  remembrance  of 
which  is  as  vivid  in  His  mind  as  the  scars  of  the  cross 
are  fresh  in  His  body,  gives  a  fervor  and  power  to 
His  intercession  of  which  we  can  form  no  conception, 
and  makes  it  all-prevailing  with  God.  *'  I  have  prayed 
for  thee  that  thy  faith  fail  not." 

"  For  the  prayer  of  those  who  suffer 
Has  the  strength  of  love  and  death." 

We  now  come  to  a  pause  in  the  narrative.  The 
light  forsakes  the  darkened  home  at  Bethany,  and 
shines  upon  the  scene  of  our  Lord's  labors  beyond  ■ 
Jordan.  We  know  not  how  the  sisters  of  Lazarus 
spent  the  strange  interval  of  silence  and  desolation, 
while  they  waited  in  vain  for  the  Divine  help  upon 
which  they  had  so  confidently  reckoned  ;  but  a 
glimpse  is  given  to  us  of  the  manner  in  which  Jesus 
and  His  disciples  spent  it.     The  Evangelists  record 


LAZARUS. 


79 


a  conversation  between  them,  which  shows  that  the 
spiritual  discipHne  of  the  disciples  was  comprehended 
in  that  of  the  sisters.  The  miracles  of  Jesus  have  a 
wide  reference  ;  and  just  as  in  the  natural  world 
multitudes  of  special  uses  and  individual  advantages 
in  detail  are  secured  when  a  supreme  law  is  obeyed, 
so,  in  the  works  of  Jesus,  many  received  benefits  from 
them  incidentally  besides  those  who  were  the  direct 
objects  of  them.  The  woman  with  the  issue  of  blood 
was  cured  while  Jesus  was  on  His  way  to  raise  the 
daughter  of  Jairus,  and  the  disciples  were  being 
taught  and  trained  in  the  discipline  of  Martha  and 
Mary.  The  delay  that  was  so  sorrowful  and  unac- 
countable to  the  sisters  was  made  the  means  of  bless- 
ing to  His  own  followers.  After  remaining  two  days 
in  Bethabara,  engaged  in  His  work  of  teaching  and 
healing,  Jesus  said  to  His  disciples,  "  Let  us  go  into 
Judaea  again.  To  the  disciples  this  must  have  been 
an  extraordinary  announcement.  They  remonstrated 
with  Him  on  the  apparent  capriciousness  of  His 
conduct.  It  was  but  recently  that  He  had  escaped 
from  a  cruel  death  wdth  which  He  w^as  threatened  by 
His  Jewish  enemies  ;  He  had  now  secured  a  quiet 
retreat,  where  He  was  safe  beyond  their  reach,  and 
where  He  might  carry  on  unmolested  His  blessed 
work  with  as  much  success  as  on  the  western  side  of 
Jordan.  It  looked  to  them,  therefore,  like  folly  or 
madness  to  leave  this  haven  of  security  and  go  vol- 


l8o  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

untarily  back  to  the  scene  of  danger,  there  to  tempt 
His  fate.  No  doubt  the  solicitude  which  they  ex- 
pressed for  His  safety  arose  from  devoted  attachment 
to  Him  ;  it  was  as  sincere  as  it  was  earnest.  But 
there  mingled  with  it  a  selfish  element.  They  were 
anxious  about  their  own  safety  at  the  same  time  ;  for 
they  well  knew  that  their  own  fate  was  involved  in 
His,  that  His  enemies  were  theirs  also.  They  did 
not  like,  however,  to  give  expression  to  this  selfish 
feeling  in  the  presence  of  one  so  pure  and  generous  ; 
but  it  came  out  very  clearly  afterwards  in  the  blunt 
and  open  speech  of  Thomas,  who  took  it  for  granted 
that  to  return  with  Jesus  to  Judaea  was  to  die  with 
Him.  They  put  their  anxiety  entirely  on  the  ground 
of  the  almost  certain  death  which  awaited  Jesus  Him- 
self. While  their  words  were  apparently  unselfish  as 
-those  of  the  sisters,  "  Lord,  he  whom  Thou  lovest  is 
sick,"  they  had  not  the  same  true  ring  of  disinterest- 
edness in  them.  From  this  base  element  of  selfish- 
ness the  disciples  must  be  purified  ;  they  must  learn 
to  go  with  Jesus,  whatever  may  be  the  consequences 
to  themselves,  and  regard  the  call  of  duty  as  supe- 
rior to  all  other  considerations  ;  and  the  discipline  to 
which  they  were  subjected  was  the  very  best  means 
of  accomplishing  this  end.  Their  faith  was  also  tried. 
They  had  low  unworthy  ideas  of  the  power  and  mis- 
sion of  Jesus.  They  reduced  Him  to  the  level  of  an 
ordinary  man.     Tc  correct  these  ideas,  Jesus  uttered 


LAZARUS.  I8l 

to  them  a  parable,  which  should  have  the  same  effect 
of  exercising  their  powers  of  spiritual  apprehension 
as  the  enigmatical  message  which  He  addressed  to 
the  sisters  of  Bethany.  By  similar  means,  He  was 
educating  both  to  a  clearer  and  fuller  understanding 
of  His  Divine  nature  and  methods  of  working. 

Light   is  one  of   the  great  key-words  of  the  Gospel 
of  St.  John.     By  this  most  beautiful  and  expressive 
image,  Jesus    is  frequently  depicted.      In  the  vivid 
lines  of  this  sublime  picture-language.  He  declared 
Himself  to  be  the  spiritual  and  eternal  light  which 
should  reach  to  the  sin-darkened  and  uttermost  parts 
of  the  world,  and  should  not  only  guide  His  followers, 
but  be  in  them  the  light  of  life.     It  was  a  favorite 
imao-e  with  Him.     He  used  it  often  and  in  various 
forms.     And  to  every  thoughtful  mind  it  must  be  a 
matter  of  deep  interest  that  He  should  have  chosen 
as  the  highest  and  holiest  symbol  of  Himself  —  in 
whom  is  no  darkness  at  all,  but  who  for  that  very 
reason  is  dark  to  us,  because  light  alone  can  com- 
prehend light  —that  object  in  nature  which  is  dark 
with  its  own  brightness,  and  contains  within  it  such 
hidden  hues  of  loveliness,   such   marvellous  powers 
and  strange  mysteries  ;  that  force  in  nature  which  is 
the  calmest  and  stillest,  the  most  uniform  and  endur- 
ing, the  most  powerful  and  necessary,  and  which,  for 
these  very  reasons,  is  the  hiding  rather  than  the  man- 
ifesting of  the  Divine  power.     In  the  parable  before 


1 82  THREE   R  A /SINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

US,  the  reference  to  this  symbol  is  most  simple  and 
instructive.  "  Are  there  not  twelve  hours  in  the  day  ? 
If  any  man  walk  in  the  day,  he  stumbleth  not,  be- 
cause he  seeth  the  light  of  this  world.  But  if  a  man 
walk  in  the  night,  he  stumbleth,  because  there  is  no 
light  in  him."  There  is  such  a  blending  of  the  out- 
ward and  the  inward,  of  the  natural  and  spiritual,  in 
this  suggestive  remark  —  such  a  mixing  up  of  what 
refers^to  the  Saviour  and  of  what  can  only  be  appli- 
cable to  the  disciples  —  that  the  parable  is  well-fitted 
to  test  the  extent  of  their  spiritual  discernment.  The 
natural  reference  in  it  is  easily  understood.  Day  and 
night  are  contrasted  with  each  other  as  the  season  of 
activity  and  the  season  of  repose.  Day  is  the  time 
allotted  for  exertion,  in  which  we  can  walk  about  in 
the  transaction  of  our  business.  And  this  time  set 
apart  for  our  calling  has  its  determinate  limits  ;  the 
day  in  Palestine  being  divided  into  twelve  hours, 
which  were  longer  or  shorter  according  as  the  light 
broke  earlier  or  later  with  the  season  of  the  year. 
During  this  period  of  activity  the  sun  shines  brightly, 
and  by  its  light  men  can  move  about  freely  and  fear- 
lessly without  risk  of  stumbling,  and  perform  their 
task  with  ease  and  pleasure.  But,  should  a  man  re- 
verse this  natural  arrangement,  and  walk  about  at 
night  when  he  should  be  resting,  and  work  while 
he  should  be  sleeping,  the  darkness  would  magnify  . 
the  ordinary  difficulties  and  dangers,  and  he  should 


LAZARUS.  183 

be  continually  running  the  risk  of  injuring  himself 
and  injuring  his  work.  This  natural  reference  to  our 
periods  of  alternate  work  and  rest  being  regulated  by 
the  orbs  of  heaven,  is  exceedingly  grand  and  solemn. 
Emerson  strikingly  says,  "  This  age  has  yoked  its 
wagon  to  a  star."  It  makes  use  of  the  great  forces 
of  the  universe  in  its  daily  work,  harnesses  the 
powers  of  steam  to  its  machinery,  and  sends  its  mes- 
sages to  the  ends  of  the  earth  on  the  back  of  the  , 
lightning.  What  a  lesson  should  this  teach  us  in 
spiritual  things  !  If  we  navigate  our  ships  by  the 
positions  of  the  stars  —  if  we  transact  our  daily  busi- 
ness by  the  light  of  the  sun  —  if  we  carry  on  our 
intercourse  with  the  world  by  means  of  the  lightning 
of  heaven  —  should  we  condescend  in  the  sphere  of 
the  soul  to  the  use  of  things  relatively  lower  t  Not 
by  the  vain  appearances  of  earth,  but  by  the  glorious 
realities  of  heaven,  ought  we  to  live ;  not  at  the 
things  seen  and  temporal  should  we  look,  but  at  the 
things  unseen  and  eternal ;  not  by  sight,  but  by  faith, 
should  we  walk  ;  not  in  man,  whose  breath  is  in  his 
nostrils,  should  we  trust,  but  in  the  Lord  Jehovah  ; 
not  upon  ourselves  should  we  depend  for  the  means 
of  salvation,  but  upon  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  the  same 
yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever  ;  not  under  the  powers 
of  this  world  should  we  act,  but  under  the  powers  of 
the  world  to  come.  Here  we  are  creatures  of  days 
and  months  and  years,  regulated  by  sun  and  moon 


184  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

and  Stars,  which  will  perish;  but,  born  anew  in  Christ, 
we  enter  into  eternal  life  —  into  a  kingdom  where 
time  has  no  existence,  where  one  day  is  as  a  thousand 
years,  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day. 

But  this  leads  me  to  consider  the  application  of 
the  parable  —  the  special  meaning  which  Christ  in- 
tended the  disciples  to  discern  in  it.  He  applied  it 
first  to  Himself.  As  our  Redeemer,  Jesus  placed 
Himself  on  the  level  of  humanity,  and  had  a  day  of 
work  given  to  Him  —  His  appointed  period  of  life  on 
earth.  That  day  was  of  a  fixed,  determined  length. 
Of  Him  it  could  be  said,  in  a  sense  in  which  it  could 
not  be  said  of  any  one  else,  that  there  were  twelve 
hours  in  his  day  of  life.  He  was  born  expressly  to 
die.  He  came  into  the  world  to  fulfil  a  given  task, 
and  to  live  a  certain  number  of  years.  His  times,  in 
a  more  significant  manner  than  ours,  were  in  the 
hands  of  God.  He  says  Himself  that  His  actions 
were  continually  regulated  by  the  foreordained  order 
of  God.  When  His  time,  as  he  called  it,  was  come. 
He  did  what  He  was  appointed  to  do  ;  and  abstinence 
from  work  was  always  put  upon  the  ground  that  His 
time  was  not  yet  come.  Till,  therefore.  His  allotted 
task  was  accomplished  His  enemies  could  have  no 
power  at  all  against  Him.  "  I  must  work  the  works 
of  Him  who  sent  me,"  He  says,  "  while  it  is  yet  day, 
for  the  night  cometh  in  which  no  man  can  work." 
And  while  He  was  about  His  Father's  business  He 


LAZARUS.  185 

was  safe  everywhere  —  in  Judaea  as  well  as  in  Betha- 
bara  —  under  the  broad  shield  of  the  Almighty's  pro- 
tection. No  evil  could  possibly  shorten  His  life  until 
the  last  moment  of  the  twelfth  hour  had  struck  the 
knell  of  doom.  But,  besides  the  length  of  the  day, 
there  was  the  light  of  it.  Doing  the  will  of  God,  He 
should  walk  in  the  light.  No  premature  darkness 
would  obscure  the  path  of  duty ;  no  shades  of  even- 
ing would  descend  to  hinder  the  performance  of  His 
allotted  task.  No  purpose  of  His  own  was  taking 
Him  to  Judaea.  He  did  not  seek  voluntarily  and 
rashly  to  place  Himself  in  the  way  of  danger.  He 
had  a  gracious  mission  to  perform  ;  and  He  knew 
that,  while  engaged  in  that  work  of  mercy.  He  should 
have  not  only  the  Divine  protection  to  defend  Him, 
but  also  the  Divine  light  to  guide  Him.  He  should 
have  the  cheering  light  of  God's  countenance  upon 
every  inch  of  His  path,  and  throughout  every  mo- 
ment of  the  twelve  hours  of  His  day  ;  and  within  His 
own  soul  the  blessed  sunshine  which  comes  of  the 
single  eye  that  is  fixed  upon  God,  and  of  the  weaned 
will  which  has  no  object  or  aim  but  His  glory. 

But  the  parable  applied  to  the  disciples  also. 
They,  too,  had  their  day  of  life  measured  out  to 
them  ;  and  nothing  could  hasten  prematurely  its 
close,  or  abridge  the  ordained  length  of  it.  Engaged 
with  their  Master  in  doing  good,  the  same  Divine 
shield  that  protected  Him  would  defend  them  from 


1 86  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

all  evil.  Fearing  God,  they  had  nothing  else  to  fear. 
While  with  Jesus,  they  bore  a  charmed  life.  Going 
with  Him  to  Judaea,  He  who  shut  the  lions'  mouths 
when  Daniel  was  cast  into  their  den,  and  made  the 
fiery  furnace,  into  which  the  three  Hebrew  Con- 
fessors were  thrown,  as  harmless  as  the  crimson  light 
of  sunset  upon  a  cloud,  would  guard  them  safely  from 
the  hands  of  their  enemies.  And,  besides  the  Divine 
protection,  they  should  have  the  Divine  light.  They 
should  have  their  way  made  plain  to  them  ;  they 
should  have  no  doubt  or  difficulty  about  it ;  they 
should  breathe  the  pure  air  which  God  throws  around 
the  "sons  of  light;"  and  have  within  them  that 
Divine  radiance  which  purifies  and  glorifies  the  soul, 
and  is  the  very  joy  and  sunshine  of  life.  Such  would 
be  their  blessed  experience  while  they  walked  with 
Christ  along  the  path  of  duty.  But  should  they,  on 
the  other  hand,  be  self-willed,  and  seek  to  accomplish 
their  own  objects  instead  of  the  will  of  GoJ  ;  should 
they  prefer  safety  to  duty,  and  personal  comfort  to 
encountering  difficulties  and  dangers  in  doing  good 
to  others,  they  would  be  like  one  walking  abroad  at 
night,  stumbling  over  obstacles  in  the  plainest  path, 
and  meeting  with  dangers  in  the  most  famihar  scenes. 
They  would  encounter  worse  enemies  amid  the  ap- 
parent security  of  Bethabara  than  awaited  them  amid 
the  hostile  haunts  of  Judaea;  while  the  light  of  the 
Divine  favor  would  be  withdrawn  from  them,  and 
they  would  be  left  dark  and  lonely  and  forsaken. 


LAZARUS.  187 

To  US,  too,  the  words  of  Christ  have  a  profound 
significance.  God  has  given  to  us  a  certain  period 
of  time  in  which  to  do  His  work.  It  may  be  short, 
or  it  may  be  long,  but  it  is  sufficient  for  the  work. 
Till  that  work  is  done  we  are  immortal.  Nothing 
can  deprive  us  of  the  residue  of  our  years.  On  the 
path  of  duty  we  are  as  safe  as  the  arm  of  God,  on 
which  hang  the  shields  of  the  earth,  can  make  us. 
Noah  preached  righteousness,  and  the  floods  could 
not  touch  him  ;  the  three  Hebrew  Confessors  would 
not  bow  down  the  knee  to  an  idol,  and  the  flames 
could  not  consume  them.  God's  hand  held  up  these 
witnesses  for  the  right,  and  saved  them  without  the 
loss  or  harm  of  a  thing  that  they  loved.  And  so, 
whether  we  pass  through  fire  or  water,  neither  the 
one  nor  the  other  can  harm  us  while  God  is  with  us. 
Sealed  by  His  Spirit,  with  His  name  on  our  fore- 
heads, the  winds  and  storms  are  held  in  leash  by  the 
angels,  who  are  our  ministering  spirits,  so  that  they 
cannot  hurt  us  ;  and,  amidst  the  crash  and  wreck  of 
the  Last  Day,  when  all  created  things  shall  rush  to 
ruin,  we  shall  lift  up  a  serene  and  fearless  brow,  for, 
having  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  we  are  in  harmony  with 
the  order  and  beauty  of  all  the  worlds.  Yes  !  the 
man  who  stands  with  God  stands  absolutely  beyond 
reach  of  harm.  The  man  who  seeks  first  the  king- 
dom of  God  and  His  righteousness  may  dwell  "  quiet 
from  the  fear  of  evil  ;  "  no  blisfht  can  wither  him,  no 


1 88  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

malignant  influence  can  compass  bis  ruin,  till  the  last 
moment  of  his  day  of  life  is  ended,  and  all  his  work 
is  finished.  But,  more  than  this,  such  a  man  is  not 
only  the  king  of  circumstance  —  and  all  providence 
becomes  to  him  special  providence  —  but  he  has  the 
clear  conception  and  full  conviction  of  what  is  right 
and  good  and  true  —  that  bright  vision  of  the  holiness 
of  God  —  that  prompt  instinct  of  what  is  the  best 
course  to  do  in  difficulty  and  trial  —  which  proceed 
from  purity  of  heart  and  singleness  of  aim.  The 
sunshine  of  his  own  spirit  will  reflect  itself  upon  all 
his  life  ;  and,  while  others  stumble  over  rough  paths 
in  darkness  and  perplexity,  he  walks  confidently  along 
a  path  of  pleasantness  and  peace  in  the  daylight  of 
God's  smile.  Beyond  the  mists  in  which  his  fellows 
are  groping,  he  sees  all  the  beauty  and  brightness  of 
this  world,  and  all  the  glory  of  the  next  —  things 
which  are  eclipsed  by  the  shadow  of  a  false  life. 

After  Jesus  uttered  this  beautiful  parable.  He 
spoke  no  more  on  that  occasion,  and  probably  went 
on  with  His  ordinary  w^ork  of  teaching  and  healing 
the  multitude.  During  this  interval  Lazarus  died, 
and  Jesus  knew  the  fact  from  His  own  Divine  con- 
sciousness, for  we  cannot  suppose  that  a  fresh  mes- 
senger had  been  sent  from  Bethany  with  news  of  the 
death,  else  the  Evangelist  would  not  have  omitted 
the  circumstance  from  his  minutely  accurate  narra- 
tive.    But  while  announcing  the  fact  thus  known  by 


LAZARUS  189 

the  intuition  of  His  own  spirit  to  the  disciples,  He 
veiled  it  in  a  continuation  of  the  same  enigmatical 
language  He  had  formerly  used,  and  for  the  same 
reason,  viz.,  to  test  their  faith  and  spiritual  discern- 
ment. He  speaks  of  death,  in  the  language  of 
heaven,  as  a  sleep,  "  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth, 
but  I  go  that  I  may  awake  him  out  of  his  sleep." 
Sleep  is  so  natural  an  image  of  death  that  it  is  as 
old  as  the  human  race.  It  is  common  to  all  nations 
and  languages  and  religions.  A  corpse,  immediately 
after  life  has  fled,  is  so  like  a  body  hushed  in  its 
nightly  repose,  that  the  idea  of  death  being  but  a 
sleep  is  irresistibly  suggested.  Humanity  has  ever 
cherished  the  fond  belief  that  in  death  consciousness 
is  suspended,  but  not  destroyed  ;  that  something  re- 
mains to  link  the  dead  with  the  living.  But  it  is  the 
Christian  religion  that  has  disclosed  the  full  beauty  of 
the  image.  The  words  "  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth  " 
on  the  lips  of  Jesus  have  a  precious  significance. 
They  assure  us  that  the  universal  belief  of  mankind 
is  not  a  poetical  imagination,  the  wish  being  father 
to  the  thought,  but  a  blessed  truth  ;  that  death,  like 
sleep,  is  distinctly  and  absolutely  a  process  of  life, 
of  refreshment  and  reconstruction,  benign  and  beau- 
tiful as  are  all  evolutions  of  life.  The  image,  indeed, 
does  not  impart  much  information  to  the  mind  It 
leaves  death  as  mysterious  as  ever.  Sleep  and 
death,  the  twin-brothers,  are  born  out  of  the   same 


igO  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE-  DEAD. 

womb  of  primeval  mystery.  What  sleep  is  we  can- 
not tell  any  more  than  we  can  tell  what  death  is. 
The  most  familiar  thing  in  life,  that  comes  to  every 
human  being  every  twenty-four  hours,  in  which  we 
spend  a  third  of  our  whole  time,  and  by  which,  as 
the  poet  says,  our  whole  life  is  rounded,  we  are  yet 
profoundly  ignorant  of  its  nature.  Death  and  sleep 
are  among  those  things  which  we  think  we  under- 
stand best,  and  yet  can  explain  least,  for  it  is  their 
very  simplicity  that  baffles  us.  They  are  so  simple 
that  they  cannot  be  resolved  into  anything  simipler. 
They  are  so  entirely  themselves  that  we  can  only  say 
that  they  are  what  they  are.  But  while  the  compar- 
ison of  death  to  sleep  does  not  give  us  much  insight 
into  its  nature,  it  at  least  robs  death  of  its  terror  and 
soothes  the  bereaved  heart ;  for  our  own  experience, 
a  thousand  times  repeated,  has  convinced  us  that 
sleep  is  a  refreshment  and  a  rest,  and  if  death  be  a 
sleep,  then  we  need  not  fear  to  fall  asleep  in  its  cold 
embrace,  we  need  not  fear  that  our  beloved  ones  are 
utterly  lost  to  us  when  they  have  closed  their  eyes  in 
this  mysterious  slumber. 

Jesus  shared  this  sinless  infirmity  of  our  nature  as 
He  shared  all  others.  We  read  that  He  slept  the 
profound  sleep  of  exhaustion  in  the  boat  on  the  Sea 
of  Galilee,  taking  His  rest  in  the  bosom  of  the 
storm.  That  thought  makes  our  sleep  sacred.  It 
gives   a  deeper  meaning,  a  new  tenderness  to  the 


LAZARUS.  191 

words,  "  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep."  We  resign 
ourselves  more  trustingly  to  the  arms  of  repose  every 
night,  when  we  know  that  the  omniscient  Eye  that 
watches  over  us  once  yielded  to  human  weakness 
and  closed  in  sleep.  A  sleepless  God  is  an  awful 
conception,  but  the  thought  of  a  Saviour  who  laid  his 
weary  head  on  a  human  pillow,  and  subsided  into 
unconsciousness  under  the  same  heaven  with  our- 
selves, is  inexpressibly  sweet,  and  awakens  by  the 
conjunction  a  most  strange  association  of  nearness. 
An  eye  that  never  closes,  over  which  no  film  of  dark- 
ness, no  cloud  of  slumber  can  ever  gather,  seems  to 
us  terrible  in  its  sublime  exaltation  above  all  human 
infirmities.  Like  the  burning  cloudless  sky  of  the 
East,  it  seems  to  scorch  and  weary  us  with  its  daz- 
zling uniformity.  But  an  eye  that  has  closed  in 
sleep,  on  which  the  dim  mists  of  temporary  forgetful- 
ness  have  gathered,  seems  to  us  unutterably  tender 
in  its  human  susceptibility.  It  is  like  the  soft  weep- 
ing blue  skies  of  April  in  our  northern  clime,  flecked 
with  snow-white  clouds,  that  refresh  the  soul  as  well 
as  the  body.  We  look  upon  our  Brother  in  His  hu- 
man sleep  more  tenderly  than  even  in  the  mercies 
and  charities  of  His  working  life.  We  are  moved  to 
ask  "What  manner  of  man  is  this.?"  in  the  deep 
sleep  of  exhaustion  more  than  in  the  fresh  power  of 
quelling  the  storm.  "  The  very  heaven  of  sky  and 
star  that  ceils  the  august  chamber  of  His  sleep,"  as 


193  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

it  has  been  beautifully  said,  "  is  more  sanctified  from 
beneath  than  before  it  was  from  above."  And  when 
we  associate  with  the  idea  of  our  Saviour's  human 
weakness  the  idea  of  His  Almighty  power,  we  have, 
in  the  blessed  combination,  the  assurance  that  He 
who  shared  our  sleep  on  earth  now  watches  over  us, 
on  the  throne  of  glory,  with  a  vigilance  and  a  ten- 
derness which  nothing  can  evade  or  overreach  to 
harm  us.  It  is,  if  we  think  aright  of  it,  a  terrible 
thing  to  lose  our  consciousness,  even  in  sleep  ;  to  be 
drowned,  as  it  were,  out  of  active  life  for  a  brief 
space,  even  in  the  refreshing  Lethean  waters  of 
slumber,  to  yield  to  dumb  forgetfulness  a  prey  for  a 
few  hours,  even  though  it  be  to  refresh  and  invig- 
orate it,  this  pleasing,  anxious  being.  Children  in- 
stinctively feel  this,  and  dislike  to  go  to  bed,  and 
fight  against  sleep  as  long  as  possible  ;  and  though 
we  who  are  grown  older  and  wiser  seek  our  pillow 
every  night  as  a  refuge  from  care,  as  a  rest  from  toil, 
and  count  sleep  as  our  kindest  friend,  still  it  is  be- 
cause of  our  heedlessness  and  callousness  that  the 
feeling  of  the  child  does  not  come  back  to  us,  and 
we  seldom  think  how  solemn,  how  awful  it  is  to  give 
up  the  control  of  our  being  without  knowing  what  is 
to  become  of  it,  to  yield  ourselves  to  a  power  which 
may  carry  us  whither  we  would  not.  How  sweet, 
then,  to  give  our  souls  to  Christ  to  keep,  to  commit 
the  interests  of  our  being  into  the  hands  of  Him 


LAZARUS,  193 

who  shared  our  infirmity  that  He  might  be  tender  to 
it ;  who  knows  the  sleep  of  the  weary,  the  careworn, 
and  the  sorrowful,  not  by  His  Divine  knowledge 
merely,  but  by  His  human  experience,  that  the  recol- 
lection of  His  own  sleeping  moments  on  earth  might 
make  His  sleepless  vigil  over  us,  when  we  are  locked 
in  the  arms  of  repose,  if  possible  more  gentle  and 
faithful :  that  there  might  be  the  feeling  of  the  lov- 
ing mother  bending  over  her  sleeping  babe,  com- 
bined with  that  of  the  all-powerful  Creator  watching 
over  His  creatures  enjoying  the  rest  needed  to  fit 
them  for  new  labors  and  new  sorrows.  And  how 
sweet  in  the  end  to  take  the  last  long  sleep,  when 
the  toils  and  sorrows  of  life's  weary  day  are  over,  to 
lose  our  consciousness  in  death  under  the  shadow  of 
His  cross,  in  the  arms  of  Him  who  liveth  and  was 
dead  and  is  alive  for  evermore,  and  thus  to  pass 
through  the  darkness  of  time  into  the  morning  light 
of  eternity  :  — 

"  '  Sleep  soft,  beloved  ! '  we  sometimes  say, 
Who  have  no  power  to  charm  away 
Sad  dreams  that  through  the  eyelids  creep  : 
But  never  doleful  dream  again 
Shall  break  the  blissful  slumber,  when 
He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." 

Very  precious,  too,  are  the  words  in  which  Jesus 
speaks  of   Lazarus,  confirming    and    deepening   the 
blessed    truth  that   death  is  but  a  sleep.     He  calls 
13 


194  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE    DEAD. 

Miim  "  our  friend  ; "  and  how  brightly  do  these  words 
stand  out  against  the  dark  ideas  we  commonly  enter- 
tain of  death!  Death  is  perfect  isolation,  the  lone- 
liest of  all  things.  It  separates  a  man  from  his  true 
self;  one  part  of  his  nature  from  the  other.  It  cuts 
off  the  body  from  communion  with  its  world.  The 
eye  can  no  longer  behold  the  sunlight,  or  the  lungs 
breathe  the  vital  air,  or  the  organs  of  the  body  assim- 
ilate the  vital  food  ;  these  elements  of  its  life  are 
around  it,  but  it  is  insensible  to  them  all.  It  cuts  a 
man  off  from  the  society  of  his  fellows  ;  the  dearest 
friend  cannot  enter  into  the  chill,  wors.e  than  polar, 
solitude  that  encompasses  him.  All  communion  and 
ministry  of  love  are  at  an  end.  It  is  a  deep  dark 
abyss  into  which  the  light  of  God's  countenance  it- 
self seems  hardly  able  to  penetrate,  — 

"  So  lonely  'tis  that  God  Himself 
Scarce  seemeth  there  to  be." 

Death  is  the  most  individualizing  of  all  things. 
Each  one  dies  by  himself,  even  when  a  plague  or  the 
rout  of  an  army  slays  its  hundreds  of  thousands. 
And  yet  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ  tell  us  that  this 
awful  loneliness  is  only  in  appearance.  He  shows 
the  other  side  of  death  as  a  grander  fellowship. 
Lazarus,  though  dead,  is  still  not  only  the  friend  of 
Jesus,  but  the  friend  of  the  disciples  also.  The  ties 
which  bound  them  together  in  holy  fellowship  have 
not  been  severed  by  death,  for  they  regarded  not  the 


LAZARUS.  195 

body,  but  the  spirit,  and  fell  under  the  powers  of  the 
world  to  come.  Lazarus  has  gone  to  join  the  great 
majority  ;  he  has  entered  through  death  into  the  so- 
ciety of  all  the  saints  that  ever  lived  ;  and,  though 
separated  from  the  friends  he  left  behind,  he  is  still 
related  to  them.  The  separation  between  them  is 
only  partial,  for  believers  here  and  believers  in  the 
other  world  make  but  one  communion.  It  is  sin 
alone  that  separates  friends  on  earth  from  friends 
in  heaven.  It  is  sin  that  breaks  every  tie  here ;  it 
is  sin  that  breaks  every  tie  beyond.  "  No  depart- 
ure to  the  utmost  bounds  of  the  universe  can  so 
separate  spirit  from  spirit,  as  does  the  slightest  devi- 
ation of  the  one  from  the  path  of  holiness  in  which 
the  other  is  walking  with  God."  So  long,  therefore, 
as  we  keep  from  sin  and  follow  holiness,  we  are  not 
wholly  parted  from  those  who  have  left  us  behind  in 
this  vale  of  tears.  We  continue  in  their  commun- 
ion ;  we  partake  with  them  of  the  same  celestial 
food  ;  we  are  sensible  of  the  same  God  who  fills  both 
heaven  and  earth,  time  and  eternity  —  who  filleth  all 
in  all.  Like  the  mariner  who  crosses  the  equator, 
and  while  the  old  familiar  Plough  has  disappeared 
from  the  sky,  and  the  strange  new  constellation  of 
the  Cross  shines  lustrously  overhead,  sees  the  same 
sun,  only  of  brighter  ray,  in  whose  warmth  and  light 
he  rejoiced  at  home  ;  so  those  who  cross  the  myste- 
rious  boundary    of   death    see    new    secrets    of   the 


196  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD 

heavens  —  glories  unrevealed  to  our  eyes  dLU'kened 
by  the  shadow  of  this  earthly  hemisphere  —  but  the 
same  Sun  of  Righteousness  which  shines  with  in- 
tense light  upon  them  makes  our  beautiful  daylight 
for  us  here.  The  transition,  or  distance,  that  changes 
all  else,  does  not  change  Him  who  has  no  parallax, 
no  shadow  of  turning  ;  and  from  Him,  and  one  an- 
other in  Him,  neither  life  nor  death  can  divide  us. 
In  answer  to  our  Saviour's  prayer,  we  all  are  one  — 
one  after  the  image  of  God's  unity,  and  consequently 
of  God's  eternity  —  for  that  which  is  indissolubly 
united  will  last  forever.  Death  makes  no  change  to 
the  love  that  is  purified  by  the  Divine  ;  and  heaven 
and  earth  are  one.  All  that  is  sweetest  and  loveliest 
in  those  who  have  gone  from  us  remains  with  us  as 
an  inalienable  possession.  Our  friends  die  to  us  only 
when  we  forget  them,  or  cease  to  love  them  ;  and 
that  which  dies  within  us  is  the  saddest  part  of  what 
death  takes  away.  So  long  as  we  love  and  remem- 
ber our  dead,  they  are  ours  always  and  truly,  for  life 
is  love  and  love  is  life.  The  living  may  change  to 
us,  or  we  to  them  ;  sin  may  divide  and  strife  come 
between  the  dearest  friends,  but  the  beloved  dead  re- 
main the  same  to  our  memory  and  to  our  love  for 
evermore. 

"  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth."  To  us  these 
words  have  now  a  higher  meaning  than  they  could 
have  had  at   that  time  to  the  disciples.     Jesus  has 


LAZARUS.  IQ7 

since  died  and  risen  again.  And  now  we  are  planted 
together  in  the  Hkeness  of  His  death.  Death  is  a 
solitary  thing  no  longer.  It  is  now  the  centre  of  at- 
traction and  unity  to  all  who  fall  asleep  in  Jesus. 
What  we  thought  was  the  very  root  of  division,  be- 
comes now  the  very  ground  of  union  ;  and  where 
darkness  seemed  to  reign  absolute  and  alone,  we  now 
apprehend  a  communion  of  light  and  love  in  which 
there  is  no  darkness  at  all.  He  whom  all  His  dis- 
ciples forsook  in  death  —  who  had  felt  forsaken  of 
God  Himself  —  has,  by  going  through  that  awful  ex- 
perience, robbed  death  of  its  loneliness;  and,  planted 
together  in  the  likeness  of  His  death,  we  are  no  more 
perishing  creatures,  divided  from  each  other  by  the 
little  passing  interests  of  earth,  and  only  united  by 
that  great  curse  which  is  at  last  to  terminate  these 
interests  and  our  connection  with  each  other  for  ever, 
but  we  are  held  more  closely  together  by  the  bands 
of  a  perfect  human  fellowship  which  death  cannot 
break,  because  the  Love  which  established  them  had 
in  death  proved  itself  to  be  stronger  than  death. 

It  is  probable,  too,  that  by  the  endearing  expression 
which  Christ  used,  ''our  friend,"  He  desired  to  arouse 
the  sympathy  of  the  disciples  with  the  fate  of  Laza- 
rus. They  were  absorbed  in  selfish  regard  for  their 
own  safety  ;  but,  by  speaking  of  Lazarus  as  their 
friend  as  well  as  His  own,  He  wished  to  draw  them 
away  from  their  selfishness,  and  impress  upon  them 


198  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

the  duty  which  they  owed  to  the  dead.  As  a 
stranger,  Lazarus  might  have  no  claim  upon  them  ; 
they  might  have  regarded  his  death  with  that  tran- 
sient interest  which  the  funeral  of  an  unknown  per- 
son passing  through  the  street  awakens  in  our 
minds  ;  but,  as  their  own  friend,  he  has  a  right  to 
their  affection,  and  to  all  the  sad  offices  of  love  which 
a  living  friend  can  pay  to  a  dead  one.  How  touch- 
ingly,  therefore,  does  Jesus  appeal  to  those  instinctive 
feelings  of  our  nature  which  the  sorrow  and  death  of 
our  friends  produce  in  the  breasts  even  of  the  most 
callous  and  selfish  !  And  how  skilfully  does  -He 
make  those  feelings  conduce  to  accomplish  the 
gracious  purpose  which  He  had  set  before  Himself! 
Not  for  His  own  sake  was  He  going  to  encounter 
danger  in  the  land  of  His  enemies,  but  for  the  sake 
of  the  disciples  also.  They  were  as  much  concerned 
in  the  object  of  His  mission  as  He  was  Himself,  for 
was  not  His  friend  theirs  ? 

*'  But  I  go  that  I  may  awaken  him  out  of  his 
sleep."  Some  critics  have  dared  to  say  that  "  the 
Christ  whom  John  paints  is  ostentatious  in  His  mir- 
acles." Where  is  there  any  ostentation  here } 
Simpler  terms  could  not  have  been  used  to  describe 
the  stupendous  miracle  which  they  imply.  Instead 
of  boasting  of  and  exalting  the  great  work  which  He 
was  about  to  do,  He  talks  quietly  of  it  as  only 
awakening  a  man  from  sleep.     We  hear  no  sounds  of 


LAZARUS.  199 

triumph,  no  swelling  words  of  vanity  from  Christ. 
He  does  not  cry,  nor  lift  up,  nor  cause  His  voice  to 
be  heard  in  the  streets.  With  the  Divine  calmness 
and  self-possession  so  characteristic  of  Him,  so  al- 
ways characteristic  of  Divine  power,  He  alludes  to 
the  greatest  of  all  His  achievements  on  earth.  So 
gentle  and  still  are  His  words  that  the  disciples  mis- 
understand their  meaning.  They  cannot  suppose 
that  He  could  thus  have  spoken  of  death  and  a 
raising  from  death.  To  them  the  sleep  to  which  He 
alludes  is  only  a  natural  repose,  and  they  say,  "  Lord 
if  he  sleep,  he  shall  do  well."  They  thought  that  the 
crisis  of  the  fever  had  come,  and  that  Lazarus  was 
now  enjoying  that  long,  refreshing,  peaceful  rest 
which  is  an  indication  of  a  favorable  change  in  the 
dangerous  illness.  Combining  these  words,  "  Our 
friend  Lazarus  sleepeth,"  with  the  assurance  given 
before  that  his  sickness  was  not  unto  death,  they 
were  persuaded  that  he  v/ould  not  actually  die.  They 
were  therefore  not  concerned  about  him,  and  they 
could  see  no  reason  why  Jesus  should  expose  Him- 
self and  them  to  danger  when  all  was  going  on  favor- 
ably without  them. 

The  language  of  heaven  was  not  level  with  the 
dull  apprehensions  of  the  disciples.  They  thought 
that  Jesus  spoke  the  common  dialect  of  men.  And 
assuredly,  if  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart  the 
mouth  speaketh,  we  need  no  other  oroof  of  the  de- 


20O  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

generacy  and  fall  of  man,  than  the  meaning  which  is 
attached  by  general  consent  to  some  of  the  terms 
that  are  in  common  use.  How  exclusively,  with  ref- 
erence to  temporal  concerns  and  earthly  interests,  do 
we  understand  the  ordinary  terms  of  salutation.  We 
utter  such  courtesies  of  speech  without  ever  con- 
sidering accurately  what  they  mean  ;  and,  did  we 
thoughtfully  analyze  and  define  them,  we  should  be 
astonished  to  find  how  completely  our  higher  hopes 
and  wishes  are  excluded  from  them  ;  how  entirely 
they  refer  to  the  welfare  of  the  body,  and  ignore  the 
well-being  of  the  true  man,  the  soul.  We  cannot,  of 
course,  avoid  using  the  language  of  the  world  now, 
for  it  has  woven  itself  so  completely  into  the  texture 
of  ordinary  life,  and  is  regarded  as  so  much  a  part  of 
the  habits  of  our  nature,  that  to  speak  in  any  other 
way  would  be  considered  pedantic.  Were  we  to  use 
the  language  of  heaven  on  the  ;treets  of  earth,  our 
speech  would  be  as  unintelligible  to  society  as  the 
speech  of  Jesus  was  to  the  disciples.  If  we  should 
speak  of  death  as  a  sleep  only,  the  world  would  laugh 
us  to  scorn  as  the  hired  mourners  did  to  Jesus.  We 
need  to  have  our  language,  as  well  as  all  the  habits  of 
life,  elevated  by  our  Christianity.  We  need  to  have 
its  terms  expanded  and  ennobled  by  what  has  made 
ourselves  new  creatures. 

The   disciples    could  not  reach   to  the   height   of 
Christ's  great  argument.     He  therefore  stooped  from 


LAZARUS.  20 1 

heaven's  figurative  language  to  the  common  speech 
of  men.  He  dropped  His  language  of  tender  indi- 
rectness, and  told  them  plainly  and  explicitly,  "  Laza- 
rus is  dead."  How  dreary  and  cold  is  this  common 
speech  of  the  world  !  It  has  no  gleam  of  light  upon 
it,  no  heavenly  tone  in  it.  Lazarus  is  dead  ;  and 
there  is  an  end  of  all  hope  and  love  and  life  ;  a  cold 
mist  descends  and  obliterates  heaven  and  earth  ;  a 
dark  abyss  opens  up  and  swallows  everything.  No 
more  can  be  said  but  these  dull  dead  words,  that  are 
as  dark  and  cold  as  the  thing  they  imply.  But  Jesus 
will  not  let  the^e  common-place  words  of  the  world, 
which  He  is  obliged  to  use,  fall  alone  upon  the  ears 
of  His  disciples;  He  will  accompany  them  with  words 
of  eternal  life  !  He  will  anticipate  a  difficulty  which 
might  arise  in  their  minds  as  to  why  He  was  not  on 
the  spot  to  save  His  friend:  ''And  I  am  glad  for 
your  sakes  that  I  was  not  there,  to  the  intent  that  ye 
may  believe."  Had  Jesus  been  beside  his  couch,  Laz- 
arus would  not  have  died.  In  the  presence  of  the 
Prince  of  Life,  death  would  not  have  dared  to  hurl 
his  dart.  Had  Jesus  arrived  while  the  fever  was  go- 
ing on,  He  who  was  never  present  at  a  death-bed 
would  have  found  it  impossible,  in  the  bosom  of  the 
family  He  so  much  loved,  to  resist  the  entreaty  to 
restore  the  patient  to  health.  He  would  thus  have 
added  another  work  to  His  many  works  of  healing, 
but  how  much  would  have  been  lost  to  the  world ! 


202  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

Strauss,  and  others  like  him,  pronounce  it  immoral 
in  Christ  to  let  His  friend  die  in  order  to  glorify 
Himself.  But  this  is  a  complete  misunderstanding 
of  Christ's  design.  We  know  that  it  was  as  easy  for 
Him  to  raise  a  dead  as  to  heal  a  sick  man  ;  and  in 
permitting  the  sickness  of  Lazarus  to  run  to  a  fatal 
termination,  it  was  not  to  exalt  the  miracle,  but  to 
accomplish  purposes  of  grace  which  the  mere  healing 
of  the  sickness  would  not  have  effected.  Through 
that  death  a  higher  life  was  about  to  arise.  Through 
Christ's  absence  a  greater  revelation  of  the  glory  of 
God  was  to  be  manifested  than  could  have  been  given 
by  His  earlier  presence  on  the  spot.  For  our  sakes, 
as  well  as  for  the  sake  of  the  disciples,  Jesus  re- 
strained His  Almighty  arm,  and  delayed  His  help  to 
the  last  extremity.  Had  He  interfered  sooner,  we 
should  have  missed  the  sublimest  proof  of  His 
triumph  over  death  before  He  suffered,  the  exqui- 
site sympathy  of  His  tears.  His  wise  and  tender  deal- 
ing with  the  bereaved  sisters,  for  which  nothing  else 
would  have  compensated  us.  Four  days  of  bitter 
anguish  would  have  been  saved  to  Martha  and  Mary, 
but  consolations  which  eternity  alone  can  measure 
would  have  been  lost  to  them  and  to  us.  Joy  to  the 
man  of  sorrows  was  rare,  and  its  zest  was  always 
salted  by  a  touch  of  woe.  But  it  was  ever  a  noble 
joy  ;  a  joy  that  could  look  beyond  sorrow  and  death, 
and  snatch  its  effulgence  from  their  very  gloom.    He 


LAZARUS.  203 

was  glad  that  the  things  of  eternal  life  were  hid  from 
the  wise  and  prudent  and  revealed  unto  babes.  He 
was  glad  that  Lazarus  was  allowed  to  die,  that  the 
disciples  might  be  able  from  that  depth  of  sorrow  and 
death  to  climb  to  higher  heights  of  faith  than  they 
had  hitherto  reached,  and  might  attain,  against  the 
dark  background  of  that  woe,  a  brighter  recognition 
of  Himself  as  the  Lord  of  life  and  death,  than  they 
had  ever  yet  compassed.  The  faith  of  those  whom 
Jesus  loved  was  more  precious  to  Hhii  than  their  hap- 
piness, and  their  eternal  interests  of  more  concern 
than  the  blighting  of  any  temporal  well-being,  or  the 
extinction  even  of  the  natural  life  itself.  To  the  in- 
tent that  the  sisters  and  the  disciples  might  believe, 
might  understand  more  thoroughly  who  He  was,  and 
to  confide  in  Him  more  implicitly,  He  spared  not 
Lazarus.  To  the  intent  that  we  might  believe,  God 
spared  not  His  own  son  !  And,  if  it  is  necessary,  in 
order  to  increase  our  faith  and  deepen  our  love,  God 
will  not  spare  us  any  of  the  trials  through  which  the 
precious  result  can  be  accomplished. 

When  Jesus  announced  His  intention  of  going  to 
Lazarus,  notwithstanding  that  he  was  dead,  Thomas, 
called  Didymus,  said  to  his  fellow-disciples,  *'  Let  us 
also  go,  that  we  may  die  with  Him."  Only  on  three 
occasions  is  this  disciple  brought  before  us,  but  the 
traits  of  character  which  he  displayed  on  these  occa- 
sions are  in  such  beautiful  harmony  as  to  give  us  a 


204  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

vivid  portrait  of  him.  He  was  evidently  of  a  gloomy 
and  desponding  disposition.  He  looked  naturally  on 
the  darkest  side  of  things,  and  ^Yalkcd  by  preference 
on  the  shady  side  of  life.  Thought  predominated  in 
him  over  action,  and  intellectual  reflection  over  self- 
surrender  and  trustfulness.  His  faith  was  slow  ;  he 
could  not  believe  without  very  clear  proof.  But  he 
was  a  warm-hearted,  generous  man,  and  therefore, 
although  he  believed  he  was  going  to  certain  death, 
he  hesitated  not  to  cast  in  his  lot  with  Jesus.  All 
that  his  Master  had  said  about  His  own  safety  and 
the  safety  of  all  who  accompanied  Him  on  the  path 
of  duty,  had  produced  no  effect  upon  him.  But  he 
counted  it  better  to  die  with  Christ  than  to  live  with- 
out Him.  To  raise  this  weak  faith  up  to  the  level  of 
the  strong  devotion  which  his  resolution  implied  ;  to 
make  his  trust  in  Jesus  as  the  Divine  Son  of  God 
equal  at  least  to  his  trust  in  Him  as  his  own  loving 
human  friend,  was  to  be  the  discipline  and  the  tri- 
umph of  the  miracle  about  to  be  wrought.  And  we 
know  that  that  miracle  helped,  among  other  things 
to  produce  such  a  change  in  the  doubting,  despond- 
ing disciple,  that  he  who  now  hardly  ventured  to  go 
with  Jesus  to  Bethany,  afterwards  fearlessly  travelled 
to  the  ends  of  the  world  without  Christ,  proclaiming 
among  innumerable  perils  the  blessed  gospel  of  the 
resurrection  which  had  lifted  himself  above  all  fear  of 
death.     For  strengthening  the  belief  of  such  a  man, 


LAZARUS.  205 

even  although  it  did  nothing  else,  the  death  of  Laza- 
rus was  not  too  great  a  sacrifice.  We,  too,  have 
doubts  and  fears  such  as  Thomas  had  ;  but  no  doubt 
ought  to  prevent  us  from  doing  our  duty  ;  no  fear 
should  hinder  our  devotion  to  Him  who  so  loved  us 
that  He  fearlessly  gave  Himself  for  us.  And  if 
we  seek  to  imitate  the  single-eyed  resoluteness  of 
Thomas,  our  faith  will  be  increased  as  his  was. 
That  which  held  Thomas  to  his  belief  in  Christ,  in 
spite  of  all  his  intellectual  difficulties  and  the  force 
of  circumstances,  was  his  personal  love  to  Him  ;  and 
that  which  will  hold  our  soul  fast,  and  bring  it  back 
even  after  it  has  been  to  all  appearance  carried  away, 
is  also  personal  love  to  Jesus.  We  can  retain  this 
love  even  amid  all  our  doubts  and  difficulties  ;  and  it 
will  enable  us  to  wait  and  suspend  our  judgment  till 
we  can  look  fairly  at  those  doubts  and  perplexities, 
and  face  them,  assured  that,  come  what  may,  nothing 
can  come  between  us  and  our  loving  Saviour.  And 
on  the  darkness  of  that  devotion  which  follows  Christ 
on  the  path  of  duty  even  unto  death,  assuredly  will 
break  the  clear  full  light  of  a  faith  that  can  never 
more  be  shaken. 

About  all  the  dealings  of  the  Divine  economy,  as 
revealed  in  the  Gospels,  there  is  a  wonderful  domes- 
ticity, if  I  may  use  the  expression.  The  majestic 
event  of  the  Incarnation  is  ushered  in  amid  family 
details  which  might   belong  to  any  common    home. 


206  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   TllE   DEAD. 

We  read  about  the  manger,  and  the  Httle  child,  and 
the  swaddUng  bands,  and  the  Virgin  mother,  and  the 
birthday  greetings  and  gifts,  just  as  we  might  read 
an  account  of  the  circumstances  connected  with  the 
birth  of  an  ordinary  infant.  At  first  sight,  the  great- 
ness and  significance  of  the  incidents  do  not  strike 
us  ;  so  purely  familiar  and  natural  do  they  appear. 
But,  when  we  ponder  them,  we  feel  deeply  that  thus 
it  behooved  the  Son  of  Man  to  come  into  our  world  ; 
we  feel  how  strictly  accordant  with  the  intimate  re- 
lationships established  between  God  and  man,  and 
between  man  and  man,  by  the  Incarnation,  are  all 
these  domestic  details.  We  are  apt  to  convert  into 
dry  spiritual  doctrines,  what,  in  the  first  instance  at 
least,  were  living  human  experiences  ;  to  exalt  the 
truths  that  concern  our  salvation  above  flesh  and 
blood  ;  above  the  naturalness  of  human  life,  as  if 
they  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  and  belonged  to  an- 
other realm  altogether.  But,  rightly  considered,  the 
simplicity  that  is  in  Christ  Jesus  concerns  itself  with 
almost  nothing  else  but  ordinary  human  life.  The 
love  of  God  is  only  naUiral  affection  —  the  first  affec- 
tion of  the  human  heart  before  it  yielded  to  other 
false  unnatural  loves  ;  and,  therefore,  all  that  the 
Gospel  aims  at  is  just  to  bring  back  this  first  love. 
We  know  the  love  of  God,  whom  we  see  not,  the 
Apostle  tells  us,  if  we  love  the  brother  with  whom  our 
daily  common  life  is  spent ;  we  know  the  goodness 


LAZARUS.  207 

of  the  Lord,  to  which  we  cannot  reach,  in  the  good- 
ness of  the  excellent  of  the  earth,  who  are  our  asso- 
ciates ;  and  what  we  do  to  the  least  of  Christ's  disci- 
ples, whom  we  have  always  with  us,  we  do  to  Christ 
Himself,  whom  we  have  not  always.  The  hidden 
mystery  of  the  plan  of  redemption  is  taught  to  the 
heart  of  the  child  long  before  its  head  can  under- 
stand it,  beside  the  altar  of  a  mother's  knee,  where  a 
perpetual  sacrifice  of  self-denying  love  is  ascending 
to  heaven,  and  a  constant  mediation  of  tenderness 
and  mercy  is  carried  on.  The  Christian  graces  are 
only,  so  to  speak,  the  natural  human  affections  and 
impulses,  purified  of  all  their  selfishness  and  sinful- 
ness. The  Christian  life  is  the  ordinary  life  lifted 
above  its  sordidness,  and  made  pure  and  beautiful  by 
the  heavenly  sunlight  ;  the  duties  and  relations  of 
Christians  are  the  eminent  heights  of  the  duties  and 
relations  of  all  human  brethren  ;  and  the  Church  of 
God,  in  its  true  idea,  is  not  the  contrast  and  counter- 
foil to  the  world  which  Christ  has  redeemed,  but  its 
bright  exemplar.  All  that  is  truly  Und  substantially 
human  is  but  the  pattern  of  that  which  is  Divine. 
"All  the  hard  stones  of  theology,  carve  and  chisel 
them  as  we  will,  fit  into  the  quiet  walls  of  our  Father's 
house  —  the  boundless  and  everlasting  home." 

This  naturalness  and  domesticity,  characteristic  of 
all  Divine  things,  is  very  instructively  displayed  in 
the  story  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus.     The  supernat- 


208  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

iiral  is  so  blended  with  human  things  that  it  scarcely 
seems  to  rise  above  the  natural.  How  easily  do  the 
sublime  revelations  of  Divine  love  fit  into  the  ordi- 
nary ways  of  a  mourning  household  !  There  is  no 
incongruity  between  them  ;  they  seem  part  and  par- 
cel of  the  same  experience.  The  Divine  doings  of 
Jesus  take  the  mould  and  pattern  of  ordinary  deeds 
appropriate  to  the  occasion  ;  and  His  profound  and 
far-reaching  sayings  are  not  uttered  oracularly,  and 
at  a  great  height  above  human  levels  of  thought  and 
feeling,  and  clothed  in  formal  special  modes,  but  in 
such  conversations  with  the  disciples  as  one  human 
being  might  have  held  with  another,  and  in  such  in- 
terviews with  the  bereaved  sisters  as  earthly  friends 
have  often  had  with  one  another  in  seasons  of  dark- 
ness and  sorrow.  What,  for  instance,  can  be  more 
simple  and  natural  than  the  circumstances  in  which 
Jesus  revealed  Himself  to  Martha  as  the  Resurrec- 
tion and  the  Life  1  That  revelation  shaped  itself  ac- 
cording to  the  character,  the  words  and  acts  of  Mar- 
tha. It  was  drawn  forth  from  the  occasion  as  it  rose. 
It  borrowed  its  imagery  from  the  associations  of  the 
moment.  We  should  have  expected  that  such  a  glo- 
rious truth  would  have  been  proclaimed  in  a  set  and 
formal  discourse,  on  a  grand  occasion,  and  to  a  grand 
assemblage.  But  Jesus  uttered  it  in  a  transient  con- 
versation, at  a  chance  interview,  in  a  sudden  reply 
drawn   forth    by   the    appeal   of    a   sorrow-stricken 


LAZARUS,  209 

woman  who  came  forth  to  meet  Him  alone.  Noth- 
ing can  be  more  homely  than  the  way  in  which  the 
Evangehst  describes  the  encounter  ;  and  yet,  into 
these  simple,  homely  circumst-ances,  was  cast  the 
most  sublime  and  significant  truth  that  has  ever  been 
uttered  in  our  world, —  a  truth  that  has  done  as 
much  to  enlighten  its  spiritual  darkness  as  the  pri- 
meval command,  "Let  there  be  light,'  did  to  illu- 
mine its  material  darkness. 

"  Then,  when  Jesus  came,  he  found  that  he  had 
lain  in  the  grave  four  days  already."  It  is  not  likely 
that  the  sisters  would  have  sent  a  messenger  to 
Christ  until  the  worst  symptoms  of  their  brother's 
illness  had  appeared  ;  and  therefore  it  is  reasonable 
to  suppose  that  Lazarus  died  in  the  night  which  fol- 
lowed the  arrival  of  the  messenger,  and,  according  to 
Jewish  custom,  was  buried  the  day  after.  Jesus  re- 
mained two  days  in  Peraea,  and  though  only  a  single 
day  was  needed  to  traverse  the  distance  from  thence 
to  Bethany,  between  twenty-three  and  twenty-nine 
miles,  we  can  hardly  suppose  that  He  made  the 
whole  journey  in  one  day ;  for  in  that  case  he  would 
have  arrived  on  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day,  and 
would  consequently  have  had  no  time  to  do  those 
things  which  He  is  said  to  have  done  immediately 
after  His  arrival.  We  are  shut  up,  therefore,  to 
the  conclusion  that  He  must  have  stayed  over  the 
night  somewhere  on  the  road,  and  arrived  early  on 
14 


210  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

the  fifth  day.  This  computation  will  remove  all  diffi- 
culties, and  v^erify  the  fact  that  Lazarus,  from  the 
time  of  his  burial  until  Christ  appeared  on  the  scene, 
was  four  days  in  the  grave. 

Owing  to  the  nearness  of  Bethany  to  Jerusalem, 
many  of  the  friends  of  the  family  came  fromi  thence 
to  condole  with  the  sisters  in  their  sore  bereavement. 
These  friends  from  Jerusalem  are  significantly  called 
by  the  Evangelist  "  Jews  ; "  a  peculiar  term  which 
he  uses  to  denote  the  leaders  of  the  opposition  to 
the  teaching  of  Christ,  as  equivalent  to  scribes, 
elders,  and  Pharisees.  The  connection  of  the  family 
of  Bethany  with  that  class  is  another  coincidence 
between  the  young  ruler  and  Lazarus  ;  whilst  the 
large  number  and  high  social  position  of  the  sympa- 
thizing visitors  are  such  as  we  would  have  expected, 
on  the  supposition  that  Lazarus  and  the  3'oung  ruler 
were  one  and  the  same.  Besides  the  friends  from 
Jerusalem,  the  peculiar  construction  of  the  sentence 
in  the  original  would  lead  us  to  infer  that  there  were 
also  present  in  the  darkened  dwelling  mourners  from 
Bethany  itself  —  the  well-known  neighbors  and  fa- 
miliar associates  of  the  sisters.  According  to  the 
Jewish  ceremonial  of  grief,  thirty  days  were  usually 
set  apart  for  the  lamentation  of  the  dead,  which  was 
(Conducted  in  an  ostentatious  and  tumultuous  man- 
ner. Each  day  had  its  own  peculiar  ceremony  pre- 
scribed to  it.     During  the  first  seven  days  the  friends 


LAZARUS.  211 

and  acquaintances  of  the  deceased  came  to  visit  his 
surviving  relations  ;  and  as  sucli  visits  were  reck- 
oned among  the  Jews  as  "  acts  of  mercy,"  and  were 
deemed  very  meritorious,  none  omitted  this  mark  of 
attention  who  had  the  slightest  acquaintance  with 
the  departed  or  with  his  family.  Such  a  ritual  must 
have  often  proved  a  weary  and  burdensome  form  to 
those  who  truly  mourned  their  dead.  The  presence 
of  so  many  who  were  mere  acquaintances,  and  of 
others  who  were  only  pretended  friends,  and  came 
only  because  the  duty  was  inculcated  by  a  religious 
law,  must  have  been  very  irksome  on  such  a  trying 
occasion,  when  the  heart  longs  for  solitude,  and,  like 
the  deer,  which  seeks  when  wounded  the  profound- 
est  depths  of  the  forest,  would  avoid  the  crowd,  and 
seek  refuge  in  lonely  brooding  over  the  grievous 
hurt.  But,  though  often  formal,  the  sympathy  of 
those  who  came  to  condole  with  Martha  and  Mary 
on  this  occasion  seems  to  have  been  genuine.  They 
fain  would  have  comforted  the  sorrowing  sisters,  but 
they  could  not.  Their  presence  on  the  scene,  how- 
ever, served  another  and  even  higher  purpose.  They 
were  collected  together  in  the  providence  of  God 
that  they  might  witness  the  mighty  miracle  which  was 
about  to  be  wrought.  The  other  miracles  of  raising 
the  dead  took  place  in  Galilee,  among  a  rude  and 
simple-hearted  people,  who  clung  to  the  literal  beliefs 
of   their  fathers,  whose  religion   lay  in    action    and 


212  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

their  faith  in  obedience.  But  the  raising  of  Lazarus 
was  accomplished  in  the  neigb.borhood  of  the  Sacred 
City,  in  the  midst  of  spectators  of  an  entirely  differ- 
ent order,  — students  of  the  law,  teachers  and  leaders 
of  Israel,  who  had  been  brought  into  contact  with 
Greek  intellect  and  Roman  thought,  who  were 
trained  up  in  all  Jewish  subtleties,  and  who  were 
keen  critics  of  evidence.  It  was  therefore  wisely 
ordained  that  the  greatest  of  the  wondrous  works  of 
Jesus  should  have  for  its  witnesses  the  representa- 
tives of  the  highest  learning  and  social  position  in 
the  country. 

Jesus  did  not  come  directly  to  the  home  under 
whose  hospitable  roof  He  had  spent  so  many  pleas- 
ant days  and  nights.  He  knew  that  it  was  filled  with 
those  who  were  His  enemies  and  who  had  been  the 
cause  of  His  banishment,  and  that  therefore  there 
was  no  room  or  welcome  for  Him  among  them.  He 
would  not  expose  Himself  on  such  a  solemn  occasion 
to  their  unseemly  hostility,  or  mar  the  sacredness  of 
the  house  of  mourning  by  being  the  occasion  of 
bringing  into  it  the  rancorousness  of  human  hatred. 
Not  in  such  an  uncongenial  company  would  He  wish 
to  meet  for  the  first  time  the  sorrowing  sisters  after 
their  bereavement,  and  speak  to  them  those  words  of 
tender  sympathy  and  love  which  would  be  profaned 
if  heard  by  other  ears.  Such  an  interview  must  take 
place  where  there  would  be   nothing  to   disturb  it ; 


LAZARUS.  2  I  3 

amid  the  calm,  solemn  quietude  of  nature,  with  the 
deep  blue  sky  above,  and  around  those  bright  and 
lowly  things  in  the  enjoyment  of  which,  seeing  that 
they  are  the  heart-work  as  well  as  the  mind-work  of 
God,  there  is  balm  and  repose  for  the  sorrowful,  and 
sweetest  communion  of  the  creating  and  the  created 
heart.  Have  we  not  all  felt  as  Jesus  did  on  this  oc- 
casion ?  Does  He  not  interpret  to  us  in  this  human 
experience  a  craving  of  our  own  heart  ?  There  are 
places  where  we  cannot  bear  to  meet  with  those 
whom  we  love,  the  first  time  after  some  grievous  trial 
has  befallen  us  ;  and  times  in  which  we  cannot  speak 
to  them  of  that  which  oppresses  us  amid  the  ordinary 
surroundings  of  our  life.  We  must  find  some  con- 
genial spot  more  in  harmony  with  the  state  of  our 
spirits,  some  occasion  in  which  the  trivialities  and 
hard  circumstances  of  daily  life  cannot  distract  the 
solemn  engagedness  of  our  heart  with  its  sorrow. 
Who  would  like  to  bid  farewell  to  a  beloved  friend, 
going  away  perhaps  for  ever  to  a  foreign  country,  at 
the  door  of  an  inn,  or  beside  the  crowded  gangway 
of  a  ship }  Who  would  like  to  meet  a  dear  brother 
or  sister  coming  home  after  long  years  of  absence  on 
the  public  street,  or  amid  a  company  of  comparative 
strangers }  The  heart  instinctively  seeks  on  such 
tender  and  trying  occasions  some  quiet  resting-place, 
where  it  may  be  free  from  all  prying  eyes  and  curious 
ears,  and  pour  out  unrestrainedly  its  wealth  of  love 


214  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

or  its  burden  of  sorrow.  Outside  the  village,  there- 
fore, beneath  the  shadows  of  the  palm-trees  that 
formed  a  belt  of  verdure  around  it,  not  far  from  the 
spot  where  Lazarus  was  buried  —  for  when  Mary 
came  out  to  meet  Him  the  Jews  thought  she  had 
gone  in  the  direction  of  the  grave  to  weep  there  — 
His  affections,  as  it  were,  oscillating  half-way  between 
the  home  of  the  living  friends  and  the  last  home  of 
the  dead  friend.  Quietly  as  He  had  come,  desirous 
as  He  was  of  avoiding  all  observation,  His  presence 
soon  became  known.  Tidings  of  the  arrival  of  Him 
for  whom  she  had  so  long  and  anxiously  waited  in 
vain  were  brought  to  Martha.  Perhaps  she  may 
have  been  occupied  out  of  doors,  in  conformity  with 
her  active  temperament,  seeking  to  relieve  by  the 
performance  of  some  necessary  duty  the  depression 
of  her  spirits  ;  and  in  this  way  she  was  the  first  to 
hear  of  the  coming  of  Jesus  ;  while  Mary,  in  her 
deeper  and  stiller  sorrow,  may  have  retired  to  the 
seclusion  of  her  own  room,  and  thus  put  herself  out 
of  reach  of  hearing  the  rumor.  At  all  events  this 
much  is  evident,  that  while  the  one  sister  knew  of 
the  arrival  of  Jesus,  the  other  sister  was  ignorant  of 
it.  We  cannot  for  a  moment  suppose  that  Mary 
would  have  remained  in  the  house  had  she  known 
that  her  beloved  Lord  was  so  near  at  hand.  She 
would  have  hastened  out  with  the  swift  impulse  of 
love  to  meet  Him  ;  and  as  John  outran  Peter  on  the 


LAZARUS.  2  I  5 

way  to  the  sepulchre,  so  Mary  would  have  outrun 
Martha  on  the  way  to  the  place  where  Jesus  was. 
Love  would  outstrip  zeal,  and  be  the  first  to  pour  out 
its  wounded  wail  at  the  feet  of  the  beloved.  And  in 
this  circumstance,  too,  we  see  the  different  character- 
istics of  the  two  sisters.  The  well-known  and  oppo- 
site peculiarities  of  their  nature  are  stamped  upon  the 
narrative  with  the  seal  of  truth.  Martha  appears  the 
more  promptly  active,  and  through  her  active  habits 
she  heard  of  the  approach  of  Jesus.  Mary  appears 
quiet  and  retiring,  and  through  that  shrinking,  retir- 
ing habit  no  rumor  of  Jesus'  coming  had  reached  her. 
We  can  imagine  that  the  grief  of  the  two  sisters  was 
manifested  in  modes  corresponding  to  their  different 
temperaments.  Sorrow  in  the  case  of  Martha  would 
be  pushed  aside  by  her  busthng  energetic  tempera- 
ment ;  while  in  the  case  of  Mary  it  would  press 
heavily  upon  her  heart,  because  she  could  not  divert 
it  into  any  outward  channel.  The  sorrow  of  Martha 
would  be  like  a  fresh-lit  watch-fire  sending  up  great 
clouds  of  smoke,  making  its  presence  to  be  seen  afar 
off ;  but  the  sorrow  of  Mary  would  be  like  that  watch- 
fire  when  the  flames  have  assumed  their  full  force  — 
showing  least  when  burning  most,  and  glowing  with 
intensest  heat,  when,  owing  to  the  absence  of  all 
smoke,  the  distant  watchers  fancy  that  it  is  extin- 
guished. 

Very  characteristic  is  the  conduct  of  Martha  when 


2l6  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

she  went  to  meet  Jesus.  She  begins  immediately  to 
converse  with  Him.  No  mention  is  made  of  any  pre- 
liminary greeting,  any  words  of  welcome  or  sorrow. 
At  once  she  proceeds  to  utter  the  thought  with  which 
her  heart  is  burdened,  to  express  her  regret  that  He 
had  not  come  sooner  to  prevent  this  sad  calamity. 
The  very  same  spirit  of  complaint,  when  she  was 
indignant  that  her  Lord  and  her  sister  cared  so  little 
for  what  she  cared  so  much,  finds  utterance.  She  is 
still  the  old  Martha,  if  not  cumbered  with  much  serv- 
ing now,  at  least  careful  and  troubled  about  many 
things,  losing  in  fretfulness  and  worry  the  calm  cen- 
tral repose  of  her  spirit,  and  still  needing  the  reproof, 
"  One  thing  is  needful."  But  we  cannot  fail  to  ob- 
serve that  the  discipline  of  sorrow  is  doing  her  good  ; 
we  see  a  little  melting  and  toning  down  of  her  anx- 
ious disposition,  a  little  calming  of  her  activity  and 
self-dependence  into  trustfulness,  a  little  elevation  of 
her  hard  practicality,  busy  only  about  the  necessities 
of  the  lower  life,  into  the  spiritual  insight  of  a  soul 
that  is  able  to  look  earnestly  at  the  things  that  are 
unseen  and  eternal  in  the  heavens.  She  no  longer 
allowed  herself  to  be  entirely  engrossed  with  her  do- 
mestic duties,  for  no  sooner  did  she  become  aware  of 
the  Saviour's  approach  than  she  turned  away  from 
them  to  the  higher  interests  that  now  demanded  her 
attention  ;  feeling  that  in  the  presence  of  Jesus  she 
would  get  the  one  thing  that  was  more  needful  and 


LAZARUS.  217 

helpful  than  all  her  own  activities.  She  left  behind 
all  her  company  of  friends  and  guests  with  whom  it 
would  have  formerly  delighted  her  to  talk,  and  whom 
she  would  have  rejoiced  to  serve  with  her  best. 
Miserable  comforters  were  these  rulers  and  Phari- 
sees, who  had  come  with  their  stock  of  formal  com- 
monplace consolations  learned  by  rote.  .She  leaves 
them,  and  seeks  the  presence  of  One  who  is  greater 
and  holier  than  them  all.  And  though  her  first  words 
to  Jesus  show  the  old  spirit  of  querulousness  and 
fault-finding,  we  discern  in  them,  at  the  same  time, 
a  fuller  recognition  of  His  wisdom  and  power.  The 
conviction  that  His  presence  would  have  prevented 
the  death  of  her  brother  was  in  itself  no  Httle  evi- 
dence of  a  higher  faith  than  she  possessed  before. 
"  Lord,  if  Thou  hadst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not 
died."  She  thought  that  had  Jesus  been  able  to  come 
immediately  when  He  was  summoned,  when  her 
brother  was  still  alive,  He  could  have  offered,  by 
the  side  of  his  fever-stricken  couch,  such  an  effect- 
ual fervent  prayer  as  would  have  not  only  prevented 
death,  but  restored  him  to  health  and  vigor  ;  and 
they  might  at  this  moment  have  been  rejoicing  over 
a  living,  instead  of  mourning  a  dead  brother.  But 
the  opportunity  had  passed  away  ;  Jesus  was  too  late 
to  do  any  good  ;  the  beloved  life  had  fled,  the  grave 
had  claimed  and  closed  over  its  own  ;  and  nothing 
now  remained  but  idle  tears  and  unavailing  regrets. 


2lS  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

Alas  !  the  experience  to  which  Martha  here  gives  ex- 
pression is  not  singular.  Whose  faith  has  not  been 
tried  by  a  thought  like  hers  ?  Who  has  not  made 
similar  reflections  upon  the  conduct  of  earthly  friends, 
or  the  course  of  events,  or  the  treatment  of  the  phy- 
sician ?  If  such  a  person  had  come  at  the  critical 
moment  ;  if  only  another  measure  had  been  adopted, 
and  this  treatment  avoided  ;  if  something  else  had 
been  done  instead  of  what  has  been  done,  then  the 
result  might  have  been  different,  and  the  beloved  life 
would  not  have  been  sacrificed.  Nay !  do  we  not 
arraign  Providence  itself  in  the  anguish  of  our  re- 
gret }  Had  the  hand  of  Omnipotence  but  interfered, 
though  only  for  a  moment ;  had  but  the  faintest  whis- 
per of  the  Divine  voice  bidding  the  fever  be  still,  and 
death  depart,  the  bereavements  which  have  shadowed 
all  our  pilgrimage  might  have  been  averted.  It  is 
ever  the  bitterest  drop  in  the  cup  of  human  anguish 
that  it  might  have  been  otherwise.  Of  all  sad  words 
of  tongue  or  pen,  the  saddest  are  those,  "■  It  might 
have  been."  If  Thou  hadst  been  here,  O  God  of 
Mercy  !  my  brother,  my  wife,  my  child,  would  not 
have  died.  It  is  indeed  the  hardest  trial  of  faith  to 
feel  and  know  that  it  is  just  because  God  has  been 
here  that  our  beloved  one  has  died  ;  that  this  death 
which  darkens  all  our  home  and  all  our  life  is  but  the 
overshadowing  of  His  wings  of  love  ;  that  His  hand 
has  been  still  and  His  voice  silent  in  truest  kindness 


LAZARUS.  219 

alike  to  the  dead  and  the  Hving  ;  that  it  is  owing  to 
the  presence  and  not  to  the  absence  of  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness  that  — 

"  There  cometh  a  mist  and  a  weeping  rain, 
And  life  is  never  the  same  again." 

But  there  is  a  hope  at  the  bottom  of  Martha's 
hopelessness.  Too  late  it  may  seem ;  all  human  help 
may  appear  to  be  vain  ;  but  there  is  something 
within  her  which  bids  her  still  trust  in  God.  Faint 
and  far-off  is  the  thought  that  comes  to  her  sorrowful 
soul,  like  a  ray  from  another  world,  but  she  cannot 
but  allude  to  it.  "  But  I  know  that  even  now,  what- 
soever Thou  wilt  ask  of  God,  God  will  give  it  Thee." 
We  see  the  sear  and  peeled  Aaron's  rod,  as  it  were, 
of  her  faith,  visited  in  the  darkness  and  loneliness  of 
her  bereavement  with  a  sudden  thrill  of  spring-time 
from  on  high,  putting  forth  in  the  presence  of  the 
True  Light  a  wreath  of  snowy  blossoms,  and  exhaling 
to  Him  its  beauty  and  fragrance.  The  process  of 
budding  and  blossoming  in .  that  darkness,  through 
which  rays  the  pale  glory  of  the  Shechinah  cloud, 
goes  on  before  our  very  eyes.  It  may  be  that  Mar- 
tha, like  Peter  on  the  Transfiguration  mount,  wist 
not  what  she  said  when  she  uttered  these  words  — 
that  there  was  some  confusion  of  mind  and  heart, 
caused  by  her  sorrow  and  the  glory  of  Jesus  over- 
powering her.  It  may  be  that  she  had  not  shaped 
her  hope  out  of  the  formless  mist  of  possibilities,  or 


220  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

dared  to  give  it  any  definite  color  of  life.  It  may  be 
that  her  expectations  did  not  rise  so  high  as  an  actual 
restoration  from  death  for  her  brother ;  for,  if  so,  she 
could  hardly  have  said  at  the  door  of  the  sepulchre, 
"  Lord,  by  this  time  he  stinketh."  But  still  her  faith, 
in  the  absence  of  enlightenment,  clung  to  Jesus. 
She  rested  her  hope  upon  the  power  of  His  prayer, 
though  she  knew  not  what  that  prayer  might  accom- 
plish for  her.  A  man  so  holy  and  heavenly,  so  full 
of  faith  and  good  works,  must  command  the  ear  of 
Heaven  ;  and  God  must  give  to  Him  some  signal 
token  of  His  regard. 

How  high,  and  yet  how  poor,  were  her  thoughts  of 
Jesus  !  As  a  man,  she  had  the  highest  conception 
of  Him  ;  she  exalted  Him  to  the  utmost  as  one  who 
had  more  power  with  God  than  any  one  else.  But 
as  yet  she  had  not  discovered  His  true  glory  as  the 
Son  of  God,  who  needed  not  to  pray,  but  had  all 
things  committed  into  His  hands.  The  mist  had  not 
yet  passed  from  her  eyes  ;  and,  through  the  veil  of 
His  earthly  lowliness,  she  could  not  discern  the  light 
of  His  indwelling  glory.  She  thought  of  Him  only 
as  another  Elijah  or  Elisha,  who  obtained  by  prayer 
from  God  what  He  wished,  but  she  did  not  know 
that  He  Himself  was  one  with  God  ;  and  the  word 
she  used  for  "  ask,"  a  word  which  in  the  original 
Jesus  Himself  never  employed  to  express  His  own 
asking  of  the  Father,  indicated  that  she  had  as  yet 


LAZARUS.  121 

no  conception  of  His  authority,  as  One  in  whom 
dwelt  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead  bodily.  Still,  in 
spite  of  dimness  of  apprehension  and  unworthy  con- 
ceptions, she  clung  to  Him  whom  she  felt  was  in 
some  unexplainable  way  mighty  to  save.  Nor  was 
her  faith,  perhaps,  entirely  unsupported  by  evidence  ; 
she  probably  knew  that  Jairus'  daughter  and  the  son 
of  the  widow  of  Nain  had  been  raised  by  Christ  from 
the  dead.  And  although  their  case  was  different 
fiom  that  of  her  brother,  in  the  circumstance  that 
her  brother's  body,  she  could  not  doubt,  had  already 
begun  to  see  corruption,  yet  the  words  reported  by 
the  messenger,  "  This  sickness  is  not  unto  death," 
created  an  impression  that,  since  Lazarus  had  died, 
they  must  be  susceptible  of  a  further  and  grander 
meaning  than  she  had  first  attached  to  them.  Mar- 
tha knew  that  whatever  Jesus  asked  of  God,  God 
would  give  it  to  Him.  We  have  a  higher  ground  of 
confidence  still.  He  who  prayed  for  others  had  to 
pray  for  Himself,  when  overmastered  by  a  struggle 
beyond  endurance  and  overwhelmed  with  a  horror 
of  great  darkness.  We  read  that  in  Gethsemane, 
"  being  in  an  agony.  He  prayed."  The  remembrance 
of  that  prayer  will  never  fade  from  the  Redeemer's 
mind.  In  our  Gethsemane,  no  angel  merely,  but 
Jesus  Himself  will  come  to  help  us,  if,  being  in  an 
agony  we  pray.  He  may  not  remove  the  pain  or  the 
misery  under  which  we  are  suffering ;  even  for  Christ 


222  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

these  were  not  removed ;  but  peace  and  strength 
and  hope  will  come,  and  we  shall  be  able  to  bear  any- 
thing that  God  sends,  and  to  see  shining  on  the 
blackest  cloud  of  anguish,  that  seems  to  shroud  His 
face  from  us,  the  rainbow  of  His  mercy.  Jesus  has 
said  that  if  we  ask  anything  in  His  name.  He  will  do 
it  for  us.  Whatever  is  for  our  true  good  will  be 
given  to  us  for  His  sake.  Our  prayers  will  not  be 
like  the  prayers  allude i  to  by  a  celebrated  Greek 
poet,  which  were  scattered  by  the  winds  before  they 
reached  the  portals  of  heaven.  They  will  be  so  an- 
swered that  "  the  solemn  silence  of  our  Gethsemanes 
will  be  broken  by  the  music  of  tender  promises,  and 
its  awful  darkness  lightened  by  the  sunshine  of 
heavenly  faces." 

Jesus  saith  unto  her,  "  Thy  brother  shall  rise 
again."  This  declaration  is  indeterminate.  Jesus 
doubtless  meant  by  it  to  assure  Martha  that  the 
deep,  though  un uttered,  longing  of  her  heart  would 
be  granted.  But,  like  the  famous  oracular  responses 
of  old,  it  might  be  understood  in  a  two-fold  sense  ; 
and,  in  this  way,  it  was  a  test  of  her  faith  ;  it  was 
thrown  out  in  this  form  to  show  how  far  she  could 
interpret  and  realize  its  meaning.  It  embraced  the 
near  and  the  distant  resurrection  ;  and,  had  her  faith 
been  perfect,  it  would  have  spanned  them  both:  it 
would  have  grasped  all  the  present  and  prospective 
significance   of    the   response.     But    Martha's   faith 


LAZARUS.  223 

could  only  attain  the  hope  that  was  afar  off.  But 
that  hope  was  not  made  fahit  and  nebulous  in  her 
mind  because  of  its  remoteness.  Clear-cut  and  dis- 
tinct as  a  mountain  ridge  on  the  horizon,  that  great 
article  of  her  creed  stood  up  on  the  background  of 
her  faith.  With  unhesitating  confidence  she  says, 
"  I  know  that  my  brother  shall  rise  again  at  the  res- 
urrection at  the  last  day."  It  was  much  that  she 
could  say  that,  if  we  consider  the  current  beliefs  of 
the  time.  Very  dimly  and  scantily  did  the  Old  Tes- 
tament refer  to  the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  ;  so 
dimly  and  scantily  that  one  of  the  great  sects  of  her 
nation  accepted  the  five  books  of  Moses  only  on  the 
avowed  ground  of  their  containing,  as  they  imagined, 
no  allusion  to  it ;  and  even  our  Saviour  Himself,  in 
answer  to  their  cavils,  could  only  draw  the  doctrine 
from  one  passage  in  the  Pentateuch,  and  even  that 
by  imputation.  It  had  no  mention  in  Jewish  law,  ox  ^ 
symbol  in  Jewish  worship.  It  was  never  recognized 
as  a  fundamental  article  of  faith,  or  appealed  to  as 
any  motive  to  exertion,  or  upheld  as  any  comfort  in 
trouble.  Nowhere  in  the  writings  or  sayings  of  all 
the  saints  and  godly  men  of  old  have  we  so  clear, 
full,  and  explicit  a  declaration  of  the  truth  of  the  res- 
urrection as  we  find  in  the  words  of  Martha.  It  was 
the  belief  of  the  Pharisees,  in  which  she  was  edu- 
cated ;  but  no  Pharisee  had  ever  given  it  so  unequiv- 
ocal an   expression.     It    rises    up    through   all    the 


224  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

clouds  of  doubt  and  unbelief  peculiar  to  her  age  and 
nation  as  the  culminating  point  of  Jewish  faith,  and 
therefore  fit  to  receive  that  illumination  from  heaven, 
which  He  alone  could  give  who  brought  life  and  im- 
mortality to  light  in  the  Gospel. 

It  is  a  marvellous  truth — this  truth  of  the  resur- 
rection, which  is  the  new  fact  upon  which  Christian- 
ity rests  its  claims — which  Christianity  asserts  to  be 
itself  a  Gospel.  For  upwards  of  six  thousand  years 
there  has  gone  on  uninterruptedly  a  wholesale  de- 
struction of  the  human  race.  Countless  millions 
have  gone  down  age  after  age  into  indistinguishable 
dust,  to  be  blown  about  by  desert  winds,  or  washed 
away  by  ocean  waters,  or  sealed  amid  the  eternal 
hills,  or  to  form  the  mould  from  which  we  reap  our 
daily  bread,  until  this  fair  world  which  God  has 
blessed  has  become  one  huge  sepulchre  in  a  garden. 
And  yet  we  are  told  by  our  religion  that,  one  day, 
over  this  vast  valley  of  dry  bones  the  Spirit  of  God 
will  breathe  from  the  four  winds  of  heaven,  and  bone 
shall  be  knit  to  its  fellow-bone,  and  the  sinews  and 
the  flesh  shall  come  upon  them,  and,  bursting  the 
long  bondage  of  the  grave,  they  shall  all  rise  up  an 
exceeding  great  army  of  living  souls.  Our  religion 
tell  us  that,  universal  as  is  the  reign  of  death,  equally 
universal  shall  be  the  triumph  over  it ;  that  as  surely 
as  every  living  man  must  die,  so  surely  must  every 
dead  man  live  again.     Death  may  hold  him  long,  and 


LAZARUS. 


225 


bury  him  deep  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth  or  sea,  but 
the  handful  of  dust  shall  be  found  again,  and  at  the 
voice  of  the  Son  of  Man  it  must  live.  It  is  a  most 
wonderful  and  difficult  conception.  The  doctrine  of 
the  resurrection  is  not  one  that  is  discoverable  by 
reason.  Men  have  been  accustomed,  in  the  cycle  of 
the  natural  seasons,  when  the  earth  in  spring  starts 
up  from  its  long  winter  sleep,  to  see  a  symbol  and  a 
never-failing  prophecy  of  life  rising  out  of  death,  and 
to  regard  the  Easter  of  nature  in  its  outbursting  of 
bud  and  blossom,  and  springing  up  of  fresh  growth 
from  apparently  dead  seeds  and  bulbs,  as  giving  a 
pledge  or  an  intimation  of  a  higher  Easter  in  store 
for  man.  And  philosophers  have  pointed  to  the 
transformations  of  the  insect  passing  from  the  con- 
dition of  a  grub,  through  the  motionless  repose  of 
the  chrysaUs,  to  the  free  and  brilliantly-winged  con- 
dition of  the  butterfly,  as  the  type  of  a  nobler  hu- 
man transformation.  But  these  so-called  analogies 
afford  no  evidence  of  the  truth  of  man's  resurrection. 
There  is,  in  reality,  no  true  correspondence  between 
them.  The  fair  blossom  from  the  seed  ;  the  winged 
insect  from  the  chrysalis  ;  these  common  familiar 
illustrations  are  examples  of  rejuvenescence,  and  not 
of  resurrection.  These  living  things  do  not  spring 
from  previous  dead  and  decomposed  forms,  but  are 
simply  the  outcome  of  a  latent  life  that  has  never  for 
one  moment  been  interrupted  ;  and  before  we  can 
15 


226  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

use  such  analogies  as  arguments  in  favor  of  the  res- 
urrection, we  must  be  shown  some  germ  of  vegeta- 
ble or  animal  life,  ground  into  dust  and  scattered  by 
the  winds  and  entering  into  the  composition  of  other 
bodies,  whose  materials  have  nevertheless  been  gath- 
ered together  anew,  and  its  old  life  restored  unim- 
paired. But  of  such  a  process  in  nature  there  has 
never  been  a  single  instance.  There  has  never  been 
in  all  the  physical  world  a  single  example  of  life  raised 
from  actual  death  ;  all  its  revivifying  processes  at- 
tach to  things  which  are  alive  and  representative  of 
life.  The  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  man  is  ab- 
solutely unique  ;  it  is  a  pure  doctrine  of  revelation. 
But,  although  we  cannot  discover  any  evidence  of  it 
in  nature,  or  prove  it  by  any  analogy  that  we  can 
find  out,  still,  when  the  Bible  tells  us  that  such  is 
God's  great  purpose  in  regard  to  our  race,  we  must 
accept  it  in  faith  as  only  another  marvel  amid  the 
great  universe  of  marvels  that  surround  us  —  as  a 
truth  in  beautiful  accordance  with  all  the  natural  in- 
stincts and  longings  of  our  own  souls.  It  augured, 
therefore,  no  small  amount  of  faith  in  Martha,  that, 
before  the  great  fact  of  Christ's  own  resurrection, 
which  has  made  the  doctrine  clearer  and  more  credi- 
ble to  us,  had  taken  place,  she  should  have  said,  "  I 
know  that  my  brother  shall  rise  again  at  the  resur- 
rection at  the  last  day." 

But  with  this  expression  of  unhesitating  faith  in 


LAZARUS.  227 

the  general  resurrection,  there  mingles  a  feeling  of 
particular  disappointment.     She  looked  upon  Christ's 
assertion  that  her  brother  would  rise  again  as  a  re- 
pression  of   her  ardent  hopes,   an   extinguishing  of 
any  lingering  expectation  that  Jesus  might  do  some 
mighty  work  here  and  now  for  her  brother.     Such  a 
postponement  to  the  far-off  ages  of  the  future  of  her 
brother's  restoration  caused  her  heart  to  sink  within 
her.     Is  this  all  that  Jesus  can  do  for  her.?     Is  this 
all  the  comfort  that  He  can  administer  in  her  great 
sorrow .?     The  Pharisees  have  said  as  much  to  her  in 
their  formal  attempts  at  consolation  ;  her  own  heart 
has  whispered  to   her  the  same  truth.     But  it  is  a 
saddening  rather  than  an  inspiring  thought,  that  she 
must  wait  till  the  last  day  before  she  can  clasp  again 
a  Hving  brother.     That  hope  is  too  distant  to  help 
her  now  ;  to  fill  the  blank  in  her  desolate  home  and 
her  aching  heart.     To  God  a  thousand  years  of  that 
long  interval  might  be  as  one  day  ;  but  to  her,  who 
filled    all  futurity  with  the    sadness   of   the  present 
moment,  one  day  of  her  present  consuming  grief  was 
as  a  thousand  years.     We  can  discern  a  slight  move- 
ment of  impatience  in  Martha's  reply  to  the  words  of 
Christ,  as  if  She  had  said  —  I  know  all  that  well  ;  it 
is  a  commonplace  from  which  all  glow  has  departed, 
and  which  has  no  power  to   soothe    my  sorrow  ;  it 
does   not   even    touch   the    present   longings  of  my 
heart.     I  believe  that  one  day  there  will  be  no  more 


228  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

death  ;  but  here  and  now  death  seems  to  be  master 
in  the  house  of  life.  I  want  my  brother  here  and 
now  ;  my  heart  strains  Uke  to  break  now  for  the 
longing  that  it  hath  to  see  again  his  smiling  face  and 
hear  again  the  music  of  his  tender  voice. 

We,  too,  with  Martha,  talk  and  think  of  a  resurrec- 
tion at  the  last  day,  when  our  beloved  ones  are  taken 
away  from  us  ;  and  we  feel  that  there  is  but  cold 
comfort  to  our  yearning  hearts  in  the  thought  of  the 
last  day  —  that  far-off  bound  and  limit  of  all  human 
liberty  and  endurance.  It  seems  to  remove  to  an 
almost  infinite  distance  the  reunion  for  which  we 
crave  —  to  make  as  dim  as  a  star,  that  trembles  out 
of  sight  on  the  verge  of  space,  the  old  familiar  fel- 
lowship of  a  complete  and  fruitful  life  with  our  loved 
and  lost  ones  :  — 

"We  catch  up  wild  at  parting  saints, 
And  feel  Thy  heaven  too  distant." 

We  try,  indeed,  to  comfort  ourselves,  and  to  fill  up 
the  vast  void  between  us  and  that  "  divine  far-off 
event,"  by  thoughts  of  the  perfect  blessedness  of 
those  who  sleep  in  Jesus.  But  the  intermediate 
state  has  no  vital  glow  about  it ;  we  regard  it  as  only 
a  provisional  expectant  state.  "  Not  that  we  may  be 
unclothed,  but  clothed  upon,"  said  the  Apostle.  We 
have  haunting  visions  of  disembodied  spirits  cut  off 
from  the  activities  of  the  spirit  world ;  and  this  feeling 
of  the  imperfection  of  their  life  till  some  far  future 


LAZARUS.  2:9 

day  saddens  our  hearts,  as  we  leave  behind  in  the 
grave  all  that  remains  to  us  of  their  beloved  presence. 
We  know  that  they  shall  rise  again  at  the  resurrec- 
tion at  the  last  day ;  but  that  knowledge  does  us 
little  present  good  :  — 

"  Ah,  but  who  knows  in  what  tnin  form  and  strange. 
Through  what  appalled  perplexities  of  change, 
Wakes  the  sad  soul,  which,  having  once  foregone 
This  earth  familiar  and  her  friends  thereon, 
In  interstellar  void  becomes  a  chill 
Outlying  fragment  of  the  Master  Will ; 
So  severed,  so  forgetting,  shall  not  she 
Lament,  immortal,  immortality  ?  " 

But  what  did  Christ  say  to  this  human  despond- 
ency and  half-hearted  faith  ?  What  did  He  say  to 
Martha's  mournful  words  about  the  far-off  resurrec- 
tion ?  With  Divine  grace  and  condescension,  over- 
looking the  impatience  of  her  reply,  He  says  to  her, 
"  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life  ;  he  that  believ- 
eth  in  Me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live  ; 
and  he  that  liveth  and  believeth  in  Me  shall  never 
die."  He  directs  the  glance  of  her  faith  upon  His 
own  person  as  its  centre.  In  Himself  exist  the 
powers  which  she  attributed  only  to  another,  and  for 
which  she  supposed  that  He  would  have  to  ask  God 
in  prayer.  In  Himself,  here  and  now.  He  those  tri- 
umphs over  death  and  the  grave  which  she  relegated 
to  the  distant  future — to  the  end  of  the  world.  In 
Himself  are   included  the  first  and  the  last,  things 


230  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

present  and  things  future,  the  resurrection  "of  the 
dead  and  the  life  of  the  living.  He  is  the  living  link 
between  the  living  and  the  dead.  The  dead  are 
asleep  in  Him  ;  the  living  have  their  true  life  hid  in 
faith  with  Him  ;  they  are  both  rooted  together  in 
Him  in  the  element  of  imperishableness.  It  is  not 
a  fact  of  the  future,  which  faith  may  anticipate,  to 
which  Christ  refers  ;  but  an  accomplished  fact  — 
which  is  the  priceless  treasure  —  the  unspeakable  joy 
of  believing  lives  now,  and  which  the  future  will  only 
complete.  Jesus  is  as  really,  if  not  as  richly,  now  and 
here,  the  Resurrection  and  the  Life,  as  He  will  be  in 
the  heavenly  world.  Had  the  boon  for  which  she 
craved  been  given  to  her  —  had  Lazarus  been  re- 
stored from  death  to  her  arms  —  there  would  still 
have  remained  the  constant  distressing  apprehension 
that  he  would  soon  be  snatched  from  her  again  by 
the  same  foe.  To  be  raised  once  to  this  world  would 
be  to  die  twice.  And,  therefore,  as  Olshausen  beau- 
tifully says.  He  wishes  to  purify  her  longing  from 
what  was  earthly  and  personal  in  it ;  to  direct  her 
thoughts  from  the  departed  brother  to  the  present 
Saviour —  the  Saviour  both  for  Lazarus  and  herself  ; 
and  to  show  to  her  that  in  Him  alone  she  should  ob- 
tain the  perfect  remedy  against  death,  and  find  her 
brother  in  such  a  way  that  she  should  never  more 
lose  him. 

The  words  which  Christ  uttered  were  solemn  and 


LAZARUS.  231" 

awful  words  —  the  most  awful  and  significant  that 
were  ever  spoken  by  human  Hps.  They  proclaimed 
to  the  world  the  truth  for  which,  for  four  thousand 
years,  it  had  waited.  They  translated  into  a  glorious 
reality  the  dreams  and  visions  of  those  wise  and 
gifted  men,  who  with  "  open  eyes  "  caught,  while  all 
was  darkness  around  them,  the  faint  dawn  of  that 
dayspring  which  was  rising  to  irradiate  the  world. 
They  stamp  all  human  experience  in  this  fleeting  and 
changing  world  with  immortality,  and  reveal  a  Divine 
endurance,  in  which  our  perishableness  is  centred, 
behind  all  the  suffering  and  death  which  God  sends 
for  the  discipline  of  mankind.  They  have  been 
adopted  as  the  most  sublime  and  cheering  words  in 
the  burial  service  of  every  Christian  creed  and  peo- 
ple ;  and  they  have  comforted  millions  of  bereaved 
hearts  since  they  were  uttered,  as  they  will  comfort 
millions  more  to  the  end  of  the  world.  Christ's 
words  are  large  as  the  nature  of  Him  who  uttered 
them,  and  as  the  eternity  which  they  imply.  They 
contain  no  private  blessing  for  a  company  of  select 
expectants,  but  a  public  blessing  to  the  broad  human 
world.  Jesus  did  not  say  to  Martha  that  He  was 
going  to  make  an  exception  of  her  case,  and  to  do 
for  her,  on  account  of  personal  friendship,  what 
He  would  do  for  no  one  else;  for  He  came  not  into 
the  world  to  show  special  favors,  but  to  assert  and 
manifest  universal  truth.     He  uttered  a  grand,  wide, 


232  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

universal  statement,  not  bounded  to  a  certain  mo- 
ment in  the  future,  but  extending  over  the  present 
and  past ;  not  confined  to  Lazarus,  but  embracing 
herself,  and  sister,  and  all  the  human  family  as  well. 
He  carried  up  the  sublime  declaration  of  His  abso- 
lute existence  made  to  Moses  at  the  burning  bush, — 
"  I  am  that  I  am,"  —  into  this  even  sublimer  revela- 
tion made  to  Martha  near  the  tomb  of  her  brother, 
of  His  existence  relative  to  us  as  the  conqueror  of  the 
grave,  and  the  Lord  of  Life  triumphant  over  all 
death,  —  "I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  Ufe."  And 
thus  meeting  all  human  necessities,  embracing  all  hu- 
man beings,  —  not  merely  affecting  the  person  then 
lying  in  the  grave,  —  they  met  Martha's  sorrow  more 
effectually  than  if  they  had  been  spoken  directly  as 
a  special  blessing  to  herself.  Into  their  profound 
depths  all  the  ages  since  have  looked  down  without 
seeing  the  bottom.  We  catch  but  a  fleeting  glimpse 
of  their  meaning  ;  we  apprehend,  even  with  all  the 
light  which  Christ's  own  resurrection  sheds  upon 
them,  but  the  surface  explanation  of  them.  And, 
therefore,  we  cannot  wonder  that  when  Jesus  said  to 
Martha,  **  Believest  thou  this  } "  she  should  have 
turned  from  the  truth  to  the  speaker,  and  said,  "  Yea, 
Lord,  I  believe  that  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of 
God,  which  should  come  into  the  world,"  —  a  reply 
that  seems  irrelevant,  and  yet  is  the  most  complete 
and  satisfactory  she  could  have  made.     She  did  not 


LAZARUS.  233 

understand  the  full  meaning  of  what  He  said,  but  she 
believed  in  Himself.  Oppressed  with  the  mystery 
or  dazzled  with  the  glory  which  His  word  had  re- 
vealed, she  cast  herself,  as  it  were,  upon  His  own 
bosom,  and  there  found  the  perfect  peace  and  com- 
fort which  His  words  could  but  dimly  impart.  She 
rose  from  the  cold  lifeless  formula  of  the  Pharisees' 
creed  about  the  resurrection,  to  the  confession  of 
Christ  Himself  as  the  resurrection  and  the  life,  which 
no  flesh  and  blood,  no  human  traditions  could  have 
revealed  to  her.  And  surely  it  was  an  immense  step 
upwards  from  vain  fruitless  regrets  to  this  calm  faith, 
that,  as  her  Saviour  was  living,  her  brother  was  liv- 
ing still,  because  he  had  believed  in  Him. 

And  for  us,  too,  the  simple  personal  faith  of  Mar- 
tha is  enough.  The  doctrine  of  the  resurrection,  like 
the  doctrine  of  the  atonement,  may  be  too  high  and 
mysterious  for  us.  We  may  but  very  dimly  and  im- 
perfectly comprehend  the  wondrous  force  and  range 
of  the  truths  of  salvation  ;  they  are  in  every  case 
limited  by  our  capacities,  and  bounded  by  our  expe- 
rience or  our  preconceived  .notions  or  belief  ;  but, 
what  is  darkness  to  the  intellect  may  be  sunshine  to 
the  heart ;  and  if  we  believe  in  Jesus  Himself,  it  is 
easy  to  believe  in  all  that  He  has  declared  for  our 
hope  and  well-being  in  this  world  and  the  next. 
There  is  nothing  which  we  cannot  believe  concern- 
ing Him,  since  we  believe  Him  to  be  the  Divine  Sav- 


234  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

iour,  in  whom  every  great  and  gracious  gift  for  this 
sin-ruined  and  death-haunted  life  is  centred.  BeUev- 
ing  in  His  own  death  and  resurrection,  which  have 
broken  down  the  middle  wall  of  partition  between 
this  world  and  the  next,  we  believe  in  that  which 
makes  death  to  be  not  death,  but  a  process  of  life  and 
renovation  —  the  transition  from  earth  to  heaven. 
And,  while  we  see  around  us  this  joyful  Easter  Day  ^ 
the  beautiful  signs  of  the  quickened  life  of  the  earth, 
we  instinctively  feel  that  these  outer  tokens  of  re- 
vival and  renovation  point  to  deeper  realities  in  the 
life  of  man  ;  and  we  hail,  in  this  spring  gladness,  the 
prophecy  of  a  brighter  spring  that  shall  dawn  upon 
the  winter  darkness  of  the  grave,  and  make  all  the 
old  things  of  the  curse  new.  The  natural  death  may 
still  be  left  to  inflict  its  miseries  and  spread  its  rav- 
ages. No  more  will  Christ  work  a  miracle  of  resur- 
rection for  the  broken-hearted,  to  .prove  the  reality 
of  His  words,  as  He  once  did  for  Martha  and  Mary. 
No  more  will  women  receive  their  dead  raised  to  life 
again.  The  chariot  of  fire  comes  never  more  to  lift 
any  one  from  the  slow  pain  of  dying.  But,  if  we  be- 
lieve in  Jesus  Himself,  we  shall  share  in  the  vision  of 
Him  in  whom  we  believe  ;  our  nature  will  stretch  to 
the  grandeur  of  His  ;  and  we  can  see  in  His  own 
light  the  profound  and  blessed  truth  that  death  is  the 
only  thing  in  death  that  dies  ;  that  the  continuity  cf 

1  Preached  on  the  first  Sunday  of  April. 


LAZARUS.  235 

the  life  that  is  lived  in  Christ  is  never  suspended, 
but  is  borne  through  the  momentary  darkness  of 
death  into  the  sphere  of  a  vivid  and  fruitful  human 
experience,  where  all  is  perfect  for  evermore.  Want 
of  faith  in  God  as  revealed  in  Jesus  Christ,  is  the 
only  death.  "  He  that  liveth  and  believeth  in  Me 
shall  never  die." 

Very  profound  was  the  impression  which  Martha's 
interview  with  Jesus  had  produced  upon  her.  It 
was  not  so  much  what  He  said,  as  the  way  in  which 
He  said  it,  that  reached  the  deep  hidden  springs  of 
her  heart.  His  manner  more  than  His  words  com- 
forted and  strengthened  her.  His  words  she  im- 
perfectly understood,  but  there  was  about  His  person 
such  a  sublime  calmness  of  power,  that  she  grew 
quiet  and  trustful  in  His  presence,  as  ocean  billows 
subside  into  tranquillity  under  the  lee  of  a  great  rock. 
She  did  not  comprehend  the  full  measure  of  the 
great  truth  to  which  He  had  given  expression,  but  it 
was  sufficient  to  awaken  in  her  a  feeling  of  comfort 
and  hope,  as  the  warm  brooding  of  the  spring  sky, 
whose  profound  depths  we  cannot  fathom,  calls  out 
into  beautiful  gladness  the  dormant  life  of  the  earth. 
In  the  natural  world  images  of  objects  placed  in  con- 
tact with  them  are  produced  on  polished  surfaces  in 
the  dark,  closely  resembling  those  produced  by  the 
direct  action  of  light.  In  like  manner,  through  the 
very  darkness  of  the  high  mysterious  words  of  Christ 


236  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

a  distinct  image  of  Him  as  the  Son  of  God,  the 
promised  Messiah,  was  produced  upon  her  heart, 
which  sorrow  had  made  unusually  sensitive,  and  com- 
munion with  Christ  unusually  receptive  of  heavenly 
impressions. 

She  asks  no  more  questions.  The  climax  of  her 
faith  has  been  reached.  She  has  discerned  in  the 
familiar  guest  of  other  days,  not  merely  as  she  had 
imagined,  a  great  prophet  risen  amid  the  profound 
silence  which  had  fallen  for  centuries  over  the 
spiritual  life  of  her  country,  but  the  very  Son  of  God 
Himself.  And  the  faith  that  led  to  that  sublime  dis- 
covery was  perfected  by  the  confession  of  it.  And 
here  comes  out  one  of  the  peculiarities  of  the  Gospel 
of  St.  John.  The  idea  of  human  witness,  of  human 
testimony  to  Christ,  pervades  it  throughout.  The 
Evangelist  delights  to  record  the  cries  of  confession 
wrung  from  the  hearts  of  men,  and  to  exhibit  the 
growth  of  belief  in  individuals  least  susceptible  to 
enthusiasm.  It  is  very  remarkable  how,  by  a  Divine 
artifice  as  it  v/ere,  the  highest  testimony  to  the  glory 
of  God  in  the  Incarnation  is  made  to  come  from  per- 
sons from  whom  we  should  not  have  expected  to  re- 
ceive it.  It  is  the  impulsive,  headstrong  Peter  who 
says,  "  We  believe  that  Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son 
of  the  living  God."  It  is  the  practical,  matter-of-fact 
Martha  who  confesses,  "  I  believe  that  thou  art  the 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  which  should  come  into  the 


LAZARUS.  237 

world."  It  is  to  the  sensual,  free-living  Samaritan 
woman  that  Christ  reveals  Himself  as  the  Messiah, 
and  from  whom  comes  the  admission  to  her  neigh- 
bors, ''  Is  not  this  the  Christ  ? "  It  is  the  unscru- 
pulous Pilate  who  owns,  "  I  find  no  fault  in  him  ; " 
and  from  the  melancholy,  doubting  Thomas  comes 
the  highest  testimony  of  human  faith  and  love,  ''  My 
Lord  and  my  God."  Wonderful  music,  drawn  from 
the  heart  of  man  by  "  the  hand  of  faith  running  up 
the  scales,"  from  its  faintest  and  lowest  notes,  sounded 
during  the  stolen  interview  of  Nicodemus  at  night, 
"We  know  that  thon  art  a  teacher  come  from  God," 
to  its  grandest  and  richest  harmony,  "  My  Lord  and 
my  God,"  in  which  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  culmi- 
nates ;  the  beginning  and  the  ending  of  it  meeting 
in  the  acknowledgment  of  Christ's  Divine  glory  as 
the  Redeemer  of  the  world. 

After  the  expression  of  her  faith  and  love,  Martha 
hastens  to  seek  her  sister,  to  make  her  a  partaker  of 
her  new-found  joy.  She  does  so  secretly,  remember- 
ing, in  her  loving  anxiety,  the  peril  which  had  re- 
cently threatened  Christ  in  Jerusalem  at  the  hands 
of  the  very  persons  who  were  now  assembled  in  her 
house.  The  Lord  summons  Mary  by  her  sister's 
lips.  "  The  Master  is  come,  and  calleth  for  thee," 
were  the  words  with  which  Martha  greeted  her  sister 
in  the  retirement  of  her  home.  It  is  not  difficult  to 
understand  the  reason  of  this  message.     Jesus  could 


238  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

have  wrought  the  miracle  of  restoration  without  the 
presence  of  Mary,  and  upon  the  strength  of  Martha's 
confession  of  faith.  He  could  have  given  to  her  the 
bewildering  joy  of  the  final  result,  but  He  wished  her 
to  be  the  witness  of  all  the  stages  of  the  wonderful 
process,  that  thus  her  confidence  in  Himself  might 
be  strengthened  and  her  love  ennobled.  Her  faith, 
indeed,  was  an  essential  element  in  the  performance 
of  the  miracle.  Being  more  simple  and  receptive 
than  that  of  Martha,  it  fulfilled  more  perfectly  the 
condi-tion  required  for  working  a  miracle.  With  her 
own  presence  on  the  scene  was  also  connected,  as  a 
fink,  the  presence  of  others  who  were  required  as 
witnesses.  The  message  was  secretly  given,  and 
immediately  obeyed  ;  but,  in  the  providence  of  God, 
it  was  not  unobserved.  The  Jews  saw  her  hasty  de- 
parture from  the  house  ;  they  marked  the  direction 
in  which  she  went ;  and  they  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  she  had  gone  to  the  grave  to  weep  there.  Mar- 
tha's disappearance  seems  to  have  excited  no  remark 
from  those  who  had  come  to  condole  with  the  sisters. 
They  probably  fancied  that,  in  accordance  with  her 
active  habits,  she  had  gone  out  to  perform  some 
of  her  domestic  duties.  But,  when  the  still  and 
thoughtful  Mary  rose  up  to  go  out,  they  felt  con- 
strained to  follow  her,  lest  the  sight  of  her  brother's 
grave  should  prove  overpowering  to  her ;  and,  on 
this  errand  of  compassion,  they  became  unintentional 


LAZARUS.  2^Q 

witnesses  of  all  the  circumstances  of  the  glorious 
miracle,  and  some  of  them,  perhaps,  wilful  actors  in 
the  dark  tragedy  to  which  it  immediately  led.  The 
movements  of  all  the  parties  concerned  were  free 
and  natural,  and  seemed  to  have  no  more  of  deep 
design  in  them  than  the  shape  of  the  tangled  knots 
of  sea-weed  flung  by  the  spring-tide  upon  the  beach  ; 
and  yet  they  were  all  overruled  by  Divine  wisdom  for 
the  accomplishment  of  His  great  and  gracious  pur- 
poses. 

During  the  first  days  of  mourning  for  the  dead,  it 
has  always  been  the  custom  among  Oriental  nations 
to  repair  frequently  to  the  graves  of  their  loved  ones. 
The  Jewish  women  especially  were  zealous  in  the 
performance  of  this  sacred  and  affecting  duty.  They 
realized  their  loss  more  vividly  beside  the  last  rest- 
ing-place of  their  friends  ;  they  could  there  give 
fuller  and  more  unrestrained  vent  to  their  grief.  A 
veiled  figure  bent  down  with  sorrow,  and  uttering 
low  sobs  which  shake  all  her  frame,  is  a  common 
sight  at  the  present  day  in  an  eastern  place  of  inter- 
ment. It  is  also  a  frequent  spectacle  in  our  own 
churchyards.  The  custom  is  indeed  universal  ;  it 
springs  from  a  touch  of  nature  that  makes  the  whole 
world  kin.  Every  one  loves  to  visit  the  grave  of  a 
departed  friend.  We  feel  nearer  those  whom  we 
have  lost  in  such  a  place  than  anywhere  else.  Their 
last  relics  are  beneath  our  feet  ;  the  green  grass  and 


240  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM    THE  DEAD. 

the  bright  flowers  and  shrubs  that  grow  over  or  be- 
side the  grave,  draw  down  the  sunshine  and  the  dew 
of  heaven  to  their  dark  resting-place,  and  link  them 
with  the  light  and  the  beauty  of  the  living  world  ; 
and  we  feel  as  if  in  the  air  around  were  diffused  a 
mystic  sense  of  their  presence.  The  grave  of  our 
beloved  seems  the  trysting-place  between  the  souls  of 
the  living  and  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect ; 
the  boundary  line  between  the  seen  and  the  unseen 
world.  To  that  mountain  summit  of  a  new  world, 
which  rises  on  the  farthest  horizon  of  this,  come  our 
cherished  visitants  from  the  celestial  world  to  talk 
with  us  of  their  decease,  and  to  show  to  us  their 
transfiguration  of  blessedness  ;  and,  in  the  dark  cloud 
of  sorrow  that  shuts  us  in  with  them,  we  become 
sharers  in  their  glorious  change.  So  long  as  we 
have  the  last  home  of  our  dear  ones  near  us,  we  feel 
that  all  the  links  that  bind  our  familiar  life  with 
theirs  are  not  broken.  It  adds  much  to  the  sorrow 
of  death  when  we  know  not  where  our  dead  are  laid ; 
and  hence  our  anxiety  to  recover  the  bodies  of  those 
who  have  met  their  fate  by  some  accident  by  sea  or 
land.  The  ocean  is  a  mighty  sepulchre,  and  each 
tumultuous  billow  shapes  a  grave  and  sings  a  re- 
quiem over  some  sleeper  below.  But  there  is  no 
home  for  the  affections  in  the  unresting  deep.  We 
cannot  fix  the  place  where  our  friend  reposes,  or  go 
there  to  weep  and  sadly  muse  upon   the  days  that 


LAZARUS.  241 

are  no  more,  and  find  soothing  comfort  in  the  very 
reahzation  and  outpouring  of  our  sorrow.  It  is  on 
the  calm  bosom  of  our  mother  earth  that  we  love 
best  to  he  and  take  the  last  long  sleep,  with  the  sing- 
ing of  the  birds  and  the  blossoming  of  the  flowers 
above  us,  and  all  around  those  sweet  symbols  of  the 
resurrection  which  cheer  the  darkness  of  the  grave, 
and  inspire  our  hopes  of  eternal  life.  The  cemetery 
in  the  outskirts  of  the  busy  city,  the  churchyard 
around  the  lowly  village  church,  the  lonely  God's- 
acre  among  the  hills,  are  places  where  the  sweet 
breath  of  heaven  soothes  our  hearts,  and  glimpses 
come  to  us  from  other  skies.  Blessed  are  we  if, 
when  we  go  there  to  weep,  the  Lord  of  Life  Himself 
meets  us,  as  He  met  Mary  at  the  sepulchre,  and 
speaks  comfortably  to  our  souls  !  Blessed  are  we  if, 
when  we  go  there  to  behold  the  grave  of  another, 
we  can  contract  our  mind  to  the  small  estate  that 
awaits  ourselves  beside  it,  and  give  our  souls  to  no- 
bler thoughts  and  cares  than  those  which  usually 
possess  us  ;  for  in  such  a  case  we  shall  feel  the  im- 
mortal fragrance  that  comes  from  the  grave  where 
the  Rose  of  Sharon  reposed,  and  plant  a  garden 
around  the  sepulchre,  where  everlasting  flowers  shall 
smell  sweet  and  blossom  from  the  dust  ! 

Jesus  had  not  moved  from  the  place  where  He  had 
His  interview  with  Martha.     When  Mary,  on  wings 
of  love,  reached  the  spot,  and  saw  the  dear  familiar 
16 


242  77IREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

form  and  face,  a  thousand  tender  memories  rushed 
upon  her  heart ;  the  flood-gates  of  emotion  were  burst 
open ;  and,  dissolved  in  a  passion  of  tears,  she  fell 
down  at  His  feet,  saying,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hadst  been 
here,  my  brother  had  not  died."     How  entirely  char- 
acteristic was  her  action  and  emotion  !     How  differ- 
ent from  the  upright  attitude  and  calm  self-control 
which  Martha  had  exhibited  in  the  presence  of  Jesus ! 
It  is  at  the  feet  of  the  Master  that  we  see  her  when 
she  is  first  introduced  to  us.     There  she  loved  to  sit 
and  look  up  to   that   holy  upturned   face  which  re- 
flected all  heaven,  and  listen   to   that   tender   voice 
which  expressed  all  love  ;  while  her  questioning  heart 
was  enlarged  with  wide  views  of  the   fields  of  truth, 
and  the  vague  wistfulness  of  her  soul  found  a  centre 
of  repose  in  the  sense  of  His  goodness.     His  great- 
ness flowed  around  her  incompleteness,  and  His  rest 
around  her  restlessness,  as   the  horizon  rounds   the 
ruggedness  and  brokenness  of  the  earth,  and  the  tu- 
multuous billows  of  the  ocean,  into  perfect  fulness 
and  peace.    Jesus  manifested  Himself  to  the  family  of 
Bethany  in  another  way  than  He  did  unto  the  world. 
In  His  dealings  with  them  He  appeared  in  a  different 
aspect  from  that  which  He  assumed   in  His  inter- 
course with   His    disciples,   or  even   with   His  own 
mother,  and  brothers,  and  sisters.     In  their  case  His 
own  saying  was  fulfilled,  "  Whosoever  shall  do  the 
will  of  God,  the  same  is  My  brother,  and  sister,  and 


LAZARUS.  243 

mother."  He  called  them  not  servants,  but  friends. 
His  love  for  them  raised  them  into  a  kind  of  equality 
with  Himself.  With  all  others  His  intercourse  was 
more  or  less  formal  and  official.  He  was  the  Master 
and  Teacher  to  His  disciples  ;  and  the  irrelation  to 
Him,  while  based  upon  the  warmest  affection,  was 
nevertheless  characterized  by  that  profound  respect 
which  a  superior  inspires  in  the  heart  of  an  inferior. 
From  His  own  family  circle,  unbelief  on  their  part, 
and  low  carnal  ideas  of  His  person  and  mission,  di- 
vided Him,  notwithstanding  that  He  fulfilled  most 
perfectly  all  domestic  duties,  and  felt  for  His  blood 
relations  all  that  the  purest  natural  affection  could 
require.  In  general  society  He  had  ever  to  act  the 
part  of  a  public  man,  or  prophet  —  to  measure,  as  it 
were.  His  words,  to  guard  Himself  against  miscon- 
struction, to  speak  and  act  for  a  purpose  —  and  thus 
a  degree  of  restraint  was  put  upon  Him.  But  in  the 
household  of  Bethany  we  see  Him  in  all  the  natural 
freedom  and  abandonment,  so  to  speak,  of  home-life. 
His  whole  nature  is  unbent  ;  the  dazzling  light  of 
His  superhuman  power  and  holiness  is  veiled  and 
softened  by  the  tenderness  of  His  human  love. 
Though  still  the  spiritual  guide  and  teacher.  He  is 
yet  more  the  brother  of  Martha,  and  Mary,  and  Laz- 
arus. To  them  He  exhales  the  inmost  fragrance  of 
His  heart  of  hearts  ;  and  in  their  company  we  are 
more  closely  drawn  to  Him  than  anywhere  else  as 


244  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

our  own  born  brother,  even  while  the  impression  that 
He  is  holy,  harmless,  undefiled,  and  separate  from 
sinners  is  deepened  and  strengthened.  Throughout 
the  whole  beautiful  chapter  which  records  so  fully 
and  circumstantially  all  the  incidents  and  sayings  con- 
nected with  the  restoration  of  Lazarus,  the  impres- 
sion of  this  tender  and  endearing  blood-relationship 
grows  upon  us  ;  and  it  is  doubtless  in  order  to  pro- 
duce that  impression  —  which  is  not  conveyed  to  the 
same  extent  by  any  other  part  of  the  Gospel  history 
—  that  all  these  minute  homely  details  are  given  by 
the  Evangelist ;  and  we  bless  God  that  it  has  pleased 
Him  to  reveal  to  us,  by  the  inspired  writer,  so  fully 
this  new  and  most  engaging  aspect  of  Christ's  char- 
acter and  life. 

But  still,  notwithstanding  the  free  and  informal 
human  intercourse  that  existed  between  the  house- 
hold of  Bethany  and  Jesus,  we  see  from  Mary's  con- 
duct and  attitude,  on  all  the  occasions  on  which  she 
is  brought  before  us,  thaLt  a  holy  awe,  a  deep  rever- 
ence mingled  with  and  chastened  the  love  which  she 
bore  to  Him.  Never  did  she  lose  for  a  moment  the 
consciousness  of  His  immeasurable  superiority.  She 
called  Him  Lord,  and  sat  at  His  feet ;  and,  even  while 
expressing  her  regret  at  His  long  and  unaccountable 
absence,  no  words  of  upbraiding  fell  from  her  lips ; 
no  unworthy  thought  of  His  conduct  passed  through 
her  mind  ;  she  felt  that  some  higher  reason  than  she 


LAZARUS.  245 

could  divine  had  actuated  Him;  and  the  very  lan- 
guage that  conveyed  her  innocent  accusation  ac- 
knowledged His  holy  goodness  and  Divine  power. 
And  was  it  not  so  also  with  the  disciple  who  was 
most  like  Mary  in  disposition  —  the  disciple  whom 
Jesus  loved  ?  He  lay  on  His  bosom  at  the  Holy 
Supper  in  the  upper  chamber ;  and  yet  years  of  fa- 
miliarity did  not  abate  the  deep  reverential  awe  with 
which  he  regarded  Jesus.  When  He  appeared  to  him 
in  His  risen  glory  in  the  Isle  of  Patmos,  he  fell  down 
at  His  feet  like  one  dead,  and  he  needed  to  hear  the 
old  reassuring  words  of  earth,  "  Fear  not,"  before  his 
emotion  of  awe  could  subside.  And  surely  in  this 
holy  reverence  which  His  most  intimate  friends  cher- 
ished towards  Him  in  hours  of  closest  friendship  and 
most  familiar  intercourse,  that  would  have  discolored 
anything  that  was  not  heavenly  and  dwarfed  anything 
that  was  not  Divine,  we  have  the  strongest  and  most 
satisfactory  of  all  proofs  of  Jesus'  immapulate  holi- 
ness. One  light  word,  one  selfish  action,  one  ques- 
tionable look,  would  have  reduced  Him  to  the  level 
of  other  men.  With  mortals  like  us,  familiarity  dis- 
covers blemishes  and  leads  to  depreciation.  No  dig- 
nity will  assert  itself  long  against  a  certain  degree  of 
close  intimacy.  But  those  who  were  most  familiar 
with  Jesus  cherished  the  loftiest  ideas  of  His  dig- 
nity ;  and  she  who  knew  Him  best,  and  whom,  per- 
haps, after  His  mother,  He  loved  the  most,  felt  that 


246  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

prone  at  His  sacred  feet  was  the  only  attitude  that 
she  could  assume. 

Mary  threw  herself  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  in  her  hour 
of  sorrow ;  but  she  could  not  have  done  so  with  such 
confidence  had  she  not  sat  at  His  feet  in  the  hour  of 
joy.  And  how  true  it  is  that  if  we  do  not  bask  in 
the  sunshine  of  His  face  when  all  goes  well  with  us, 
we  cannot  put  our  trust  under  the  shadow  of  His 
wings  when  trial  comes  upon  us !  No  human  being 
likes  another  to  come  to  him  only  when  he  requires 
help.  If  a  man's  own  brother  recognized  the  relation- 
ship only  when  some  pecuniary  embarrassment  or 
some  sore  trial  requiring  the  help  of  another  over- 
took him,  the  tenderest  and  most  considerate  heart 
would  be  repelled  by  such  selfishness.  And  can  we 
imagine  that  He  who  gave  us  these  instincts  of  our 
nature,  is  so  altogether  different  that  He  can  bear  to 
be  treated  with  neglect  when  we  have  all  that  heart 
can  wish,  and  approached  with  supplications  and 
tears  when  we  are  prostrated  by  trouble.  Alas !  that 
this  should  be  so  frequent — that  religion  should  be 
so  almost  exclusively  associated  with  the  darker  and 
sadder  experiences  of  life  —  that  the  picture  drawn 
by  Him  who  knew  what  was  in  man,  in  the  parable 
of  the  supper,  should  be  so  true  to  the  life  !  The  in- 
dividuals who  began  with  one  consent  to  make  ex- 
cuse were  those  who  were  satisfied  with  their  position 
in  the  world  —  the  man  who  had  wealth  to  purchase, 


LAZARUS.  247 

or  Strength  for  active  exercise,  or  who  was  living  joy- 
fully with  the  wife  of  his  youth  ;  while  those  who 
had  nothing  else  to  enjoy,  and  nowhere  else  to  turn 
to,  filled  their  places,  —  the  poor,  the  halt,  the 
maimed,  the  blind.  But  although,  in  the  season  of 
prosperity,  we  have  been  acting  towards  a  God  of 
love  in  a  manner  that,  if  treated  so  ourselves,  we 
should  call  the  basest  ingratitude,  yet  He  does  not 
laugh  at  our  calamity  or  mock  when  our  fear  cometh. 
He  makes  His  goodness  to  pass  before  us  in  our 
darkest  hours  as  well  as  in  our  brightest.  He  lifts 
us  up  with  a  tender  hand  when  we  cast  ourselves  at 
His  feet,  and  pours  the  balm  of  His  consolation  into 
our  rankUng  wounds,  and  remembers  not  against  us 
our  former  indifference  towards  Him.  But,  although 
He  does  not  retaliate,  and  returns  good  for  evil,  we 
make  ourselves  incalculable  losers  in  the  hour  of 
sorrow  by  our  neglect  of  God  in  the  hour  of  joy.  It 
is  not  reasonable  to  expect,  and  according  to  the  laws 
of  our  spiritual  nature  we  cannot  receive,  the  same 
comfort  from  Him  in  our  sorrow  which  is  enjoyed  by 
those  who  seek  His  face  always,  when  fortune  smiles 
as  well  as  when  it  frowns,  —  v/ho  can  joy  in  God 
when  the  cup  of  earthly  blessings  is  full  as  when  it  is 
empty.  We  have  not  the  same  feeling  of  confidence 
and  ease  in  His  presence ;  we  have  not  the  same  as- 
surance of  help.  We  have  made  Him  a  stranger  to 
us,  and  ourselves  strangers  to  Him  ;   and  therefore 


248  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

we  find  it  hard  to  love  Him  of  whom  we  know  so 
little,  to  trust  Him  with  whom  we  have  so  little  in 
common.  To  have  a  sense  of  His  love  towards  us, 
we  must  have  His  love  in  us.  All  this  surely 
deepens  the  conviction  which  worldly  wisdom  itself 
might  teach  us,  that  they  who  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus 
in  the  time  of  prosperity,  will  instinctively  cast  them- 
selves there  in  the  time  of  sore  necessity,  knowing 
Him  whom  they  have  believed  as  a  tried  and  trusted 
friend,  and  assured  — 

"  That  He  by  whom  our  bright  hours  shone, 
Our  darkness  best  may  rule." 

It  is  one  of  the  finest  traits  of  a  narrative  full  of 
exquisite  touches  of  human  nature,  that  Mary  should 
have  repeated  the  very  words  with  which  Martha  had 
greeted  Jesus,  "  Lord,  if  Thou  hadst  been  here,  my 
brother  had  not  died."  This  striking  unison  of  feel- 
ing between  sisters,  whose  characters  v/ere  so  widely 
different,  shows  how  the  fire  of  a  common  sorrow  had 
welded  together  their  nature.  The  reason  of  the 
coincidence  is  evident  on  the  surface.  For  four  days 
Martha  and  Mary  had  sat  together  in  their  darkened 
home,  and  as  they  talked  of  their  departed  brother, 
the  thought  uppermost  in  their  minds,  and  which 
oftenest  found  expression  from  their  lips,  was  that 
the  result  might  have  been  different  had  their  Divine 
Friend  been  with  them.  They  brooded  upon  this 
idea  until  it  took  exclusive  possession  of  them,  and 


LAZARUS.  249 

"  the  dirges  of  their  hope  one  melancholy  burden 
bore."  And  what  a  beautiful  Illustration  it  is  of  the 
harmonizing  effect  upon  differently  constituted  per- 
sons of  a  common  sorrow  !  Natures  the  most  op- 
posite in  their  tastes  and  sympathies  grow  into  each 
other's  likeness  under  the  discipline  of  what  they  feel 
deeply  together.  "  One  of  the  most  remarkable 
effects  of  intense  grief  is  that  it  brings  back  to  us 
the  simplicity  of  childhood,"  levels  all  barriers  and 
distinctions  of  position  and  temperament  and  educa- 
tion ;  and  we  are  drawn  to  one  another,  not  by  the 
cords  of  particular  sympathies  only,  but  by  the  cords 
of  the  race.  We  return  from  the  conventionalities 
of  our  ordinary  life  to  the  simple  sorrow  that  belongs 
to  the  heart  of  a  child.  Nature  conquers  all  our 
haughty  reserve,  our  customary  etiquette  ;  and  our 
isolation  from  one  another  is  lost  in  the  longing  for 
sympathy.  We  become  children  again,  and  the  child- 
like depth  of  our  sorrow  brings  out  not  only  the 
childlike  depth  of  our  trust  in  our  Heavenly  Father, 
but  also  the  childlike  leaning  of  our  hearts  upon  our 
brothers  and  sisters  who  are  distressed  with  a  similar 
woe.  The  mutual  sorrow  that  had  come  upon  the 
two  sisters  of  Bethany,  those  four  days  during  which 
they  kept  together  the  mournful  vigil  of  death,  made 
both  better  than  either  had  been  before  ;  Martha 
more  like  Mary,  and  Mary  a  little  more  like  Martha. 
'Deeply  as  Jesus  sympathized  with  Martha  in  her 


250  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

sorrow,  her  calmness  of  demeanor,  and  her  ability  to 
enter  at  once  into  conversation  with  Him,  did  not 
stir  the  keen  sensibilities  of  His  nature.  He  talked 
with  her  tenderly  and  sadly,  but  yet  composedly. 
The  friends  who  had  come  to  condole  with  her  were 
equally  calm  and  self-possessed.  There  was  nothing 
demonstrative  in  her  grief  to  call  forth  a  correspond- 
ing feeling  in  their  mind.  Her  calmness  made  them 
calm.  But  Mary's  profound  sorrow  touched  their 
pity  to  the  very  quick.  When  she  cast  herself  at  the 
feet  of  Jesus  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief,  and  the  wounds 
of  her  sorrow  opened  afresh  at  the  first  meeting  with 
One  who  knew  and  loved  her  brother,  and  who,  the 
last  time  she  saw  Him,  witnessed  some  happy  scene 
in  which  that  brother  took  part,  and  she  could  only 
utter  the  one  sentence  which  for  four  days  had  been 
the  pathetic  refrain  of  the  sisters'  woe,  Jesus  was 
deeply -affected.  The  sight  of  Mary's  overwhelming 
sorrow,  and  the  responsive  tears  which  it  called  forth 
from  the  friends  standing  around,  stirred  to  the  very 
depths  the  sympathies  of  the  Man  of  Sorrows.  He 
conversed  with  Martha,  but  He  wept  with  Mary. 
To  the  one  He  gave  words  of  comfort,  to  the  other 
He  gave  tears,  a  part  of  Himself,  the  deepest  emo- 
tions of  His  heart. 

The  words,  "  He  groaned  in  the  spirit,  and  was 
troubled,"  in  which  the  Evangelist  describes  this 
emotion^  have   occasioned  much  perplexity  to  com- 


LAZARUS  251 

mentators  from  the  earliest  times,  inasmuch  as  in 
the  original  they  convey  the  idea  of  a  complex  feel- 
ing, not  only  of  grief,  but  also  of  anger,  and  mean, 
properly  speaking,  an  indignant  sorrow.  But  the 
question  arises,  "  What  could  Jesus  have  been  angry 
at  ?  "  Some  of  the  early  fathers  of  the  Church  have 
said  that  He  was  ashamed  of  His  own  emotion,  and 
His  Divine  nature  chided  the  weakness  of  His 
human  ;  others  have  declared  that  He  was  indignant 
at  the  unbelief  of  the  Jews,  and  even  of  the  sisters  ; 
while  Strauss  and  his  school  maintain  that  this  ex- 
pression of  indignation  is  entirely  in  keeping  with 
His  character  as  John  delineates  Him,  easily  roused 
as  a  miracle-worker,  and  ready  to  fly  into  a  passion 
upon  any  sign  of  a  refusal  to  believe.  The  first 
supposition  is  manifestly  inapplicable,  because  it  is 
founded  upon  stoical  principles,  with  whose  frigid 
inanimateness  Christianity  has  nothing  in  common. 
Jesus  was  a  true  man,  and  His  perfect  humanity  was 
always  shown  in  His  warm  and  lively  sympathy  with 
the  griefs  of  others.  The  supposition  of  Strauss  is 
altogether  unworthy  of  consideration,  for  it  proceeds 
from  a  most  perverse  and  determined  misunderstand- 
ing of  the  whole  character  of  Christ.  The  ancient 
Jewish  enemies  of  Jesus,  who  sought  every  pretext 
to  kill  Him,  made  no  such  misinterpretation  ;  that 
was  left  for  His  modern  enemies,  who  not  only  de- 
stroy but  calumniate.     A  moment's  sober  reflection, 


252  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

one  would  think,  ought  to  be  enough  to  show  the 
reason  of  His  indignant  sorrow  on  this  occasion. 
Jesus  traced  effects  to  their  causes.  A  single  case 
of  bereavement  was  to  Him  but  a  specimen  of  the 
whole  vast  range  and  extent  of  human  sorrow.  The 
grief  of  Mary  was  the  same  in  kind  as  the  grief  of 
any  sister  who  has  lost  a  brother  since  the  fall  of 
man.  The  object  of  His  tearful  anger  was  not  so 
much  the  single  instance  of  Lazarus'  death,  and  the 
privation  and  mourning  which  it  occasioned  in  one 
family  and  circle  of  friends,  but  the  whole  vast  his- 
tory of  death  and  its  sufferings  as  the  result  of  sin. 
It  was  not  indeed  the  personal  sin  of  any  member  of 
the  family  of  Bethany  that  had  brought  all  this  suf- 
fering upon  them.  The  connection  between  suffer- 
ing and  sin  in  individual  cases  cannot  always  be 
traced  ;  but  we  know  that  even  in  those  trials  which 
are  common  to  the  race,  sickness,  death,  and  be- 
reavement, suffering  is  the  fruit  of  sin.  When  a 
bridge  has  been  swept  away  by  a  flood,  as  some  one 
has  said,  we  do  not,  when  contemplating  its  ruins, 
pause  to  inquire  by  what  exact  particles  of  water  the 
damage  was  caused.  It  was  the  whole  stream  that 
did  it ;  the  action  of  each  particle  of  water  on  the 
next  communicating  itself  in  turn  to  those  next  in 
order.  And  so  the  calamity  that  had  overtaken  the 
family  of  Bethany  was  caused  by  the  stream  of  sin  ; 
and  it  was  against  the  whole  current  of  sin  and  the 


LAZARUS.  253 

author   of  it,   the  great  adversary  of  our  race,  that 
Jesus  was  moved  with  a  sorrowful  indignation. 

He  groaned,  not  in  His  emotional  nature  merely, 
but  in  His  spirit,  in  his  higher  nature,  in  that  part 
of  His  beino-  which  looked  before  and  after.  He  was 
sorrowfully  indignant  because  of  that  great  evil  which 
had  blighted  the  beauty  and  blasted  the  blessedness 
of  a  world  which  He  had  made  very  good.  He  was 
indignantly  sorrowful  because  of  the  usurped  domin- 
ion of  death  over  the  children  of  men.  With  the 
anguish-stricken  form  of  Mary  at  His  feet.  He  saw 
unrolled  before  Him  the  whole  long  scroll  of  the  past 
history  of  this  sinful  and  suffering  race,  written  with- 
in and  without  with  larnentation  and  mourning  and 
woe.  He  saw  all  the  wretchedness  which  in  great 
masses  of  the  people  seemed  to  mock  the  healing 
powers  of  human  love  and  Divine  grace,  all  the 
tragedies  of  the  human  soul  played  out  without  any 
record  in  the  commonest  lives,  all  the  gigantic  forms 
of  tyranny  and  cruelty  brooding  for  ages  on  the 
earth,  all  the  measureless  woes  which  have  hurried 
countless  myriads  to  a  dark  and  dishonored  grave. 
And  He  knew  that  all  these  sufferings,  unlike  the 
ravages  of  the  volcano,  the  earthquake,  or  the  storm, 
were  also  sins,  crimes,  and  wrongs  which  made  those 
who  inflicted  them  more  miserable  than  those  who 
endured  them.  Philanthropists  have  not  seldom 
felt  the  burden  of  human  misery  greater  than  they 


254  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

could  bear.  The  Apostle  Paul  said  that  he  and  his 
fellow-Christians  who  had  the  first  fruits  of  the  Spirit, 
groaned  within  themselves  on  account  of  the  travail- 
ing together  in  pain  of  the  whole  creation,  with  a 
keener  and  intenser  anguish  than  others  felt  because 
of  their  greater  measure  of  discernment  of  the  evil. 
And  even  in  the  minds  of  the  more  thoughtful  of 
our  modern  sceptics,  the  sense  of  misery  and  im- 
potence in  human  life  has  overpowered  the  com- 
placent optimism  of  worldly  carelessness,  or  of  shal- 
lower philosophies.  What,  then,  must  have  been  the 
effect  produced  by  the  thought  of  all  this  wrong 
and  wretchedness  in  the  mind  of  the  Redeemer, 
with  all  the  reproach  which  it  seemed  to  cast  upon 
Divine  Providence  !  No  wonder  that  He  should  be, 
not  only  sorrowful,  but  indignant  at  the  contempla- 
tion ;  that  He  should  have  a  feeling  of  bitterness, 
even  though  He  came  to  lighten  the  curse  and  re- 
move the  evil,  that  His  work  should  have  been  at 
all  necessary.  In  the  groaning  of  Jesus,  on  this 
occasion,  we  have  a  glimpse  given  to  us  of  the  sor- 
rowful displeasure  with  which  the  Eternal  God  has 
ever  regarded  man's  sin ;  we  have  a  revelation  of 
the  pressure  upon  the  heart  of  God  of  that  burden 
of  evil  and  suffering  under  which  the  whole  crea- 
tion groans,  even  when  it  knows  no  more  why  it  suf- 
fers than  one  who  tosses  uneasily  in  a  fevered  sleep. 
The  Bible  tells  us  that  ever  and  anon  God  repented 


LAZARUS.         .  255 

Him  that  He  had  made  the  world,  for  the  scenes 
that  took  place  in  it  were  too  miserable  and  wicked 
for  Him  to  look  upon.  We  see  but  a  few  passing 
glimpses,  at  rare  intervals,  of  the  wretchedness  of  the 
world,  and  catch  but  a  few  faint  notes  now  and  then 
of  the  great  wailing  coronach  of  pain  and  despair 
which  goes  up  day  by  day  into  the  ear  of  Heaven. 
But  if  we  could  set  before  our  mind's  eye  all  that  we 
have  seen  of  sin  and  sickness  and  death  and  misery, 
and  multiply  it  a  myriad  fold,  and  realize  that  this 
lies  constantly  bare  before  the  holy  eye  of  God,  we 
should  have  some  idea  what  a  world  it  is  which  a 
loving  and  righteous  God  sustains  ;  we  should  under- 
stand why  Jesus,  who  gave  audible  expression  and 
visible  form  to  the  Father's  feelings,  should  groan  in 
spirit  and  be  troubled.  In  tlie  individual  sorrow  of 
Mary  He  felt  the  whole  burden  of  human  sin  and 
woe  ;  that  burden  which  caused  Him  to  sweat,  in 
the  Garden  of  Gethsemane,  as  it  were  great  drops 
of  blood,  and  which  on  the  cross  brought  that  horror 
of  great  darkness  under  which  He  sank  out  of  life. 

The  inquiry  of  Jesus,  "  Where  have  ye  laid  him  }  " 
and  the  offer  of  the  Jews  to  lead  Him  to  the  spot, 
need  not  perplex  us.  Were  it  necessary,  we  should 
not  fear  to  admit  that  Jesus,  as  a  man  did  not  know 
where  Lazarus  was  interred.  There  was,  and  still  is, 
a  tendency  in  Christian  theology  to  deny  all  that  is 
essential  in  the  humanity  of  Christ  in  particular  in- 


256  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD, 

Stances,  while  admitting  theoretically  the  general 
fact.  To  speak  of  Christ's  ignorance  and  develop- 
ment would  be  considered  inconsistent  with  the  honor 
due  to  Him.  Such  a  tendency  denies  the  very  deep- 
est thing  in  Christianity,  which  is  to  humanize  Di- 
vinity in  the  person  of  Jesus,  —  that,  by  means  of  a 
nature  like  our  own,  God  may  bring  Himself  within 
our  range.  We  lose  the  real  by  clinging  to  the  ideal. 
In  our  proper  endeavor  to  exalt  Him  as  God,  we  lift 
Him  to  an  altitude  so  far  above  ourselves,  so  much 
higher  than  all  visible  points,  that  He  becomes  a  dim 
abstraction  with  which  we  have  no  sympathy,  and 
which  exercises  no  true  power  over  us.  Jesus  as- 
sumed our  nature  under  all  the  limitations  imposed 
upon  humanity ;  and  one  of  these  limitations  was, 
that  He  should  acquire  His  knowledge,  as  we  do,  by 
observation  and  inference  —  by  the  cultivation  and 
exercise  of  His  faculties.  He  was  no  prodigy,  no 
superhuman  person.  He  had  to  be  told  things,  and 
to  find  out  things,  like  any  of  ourselves.  What  He 
knew  as  God,  He  had  to  acquire  as  man  by  the  slow, 
painful  processes  of  human  education.  He  could 
not  otherwise  have  known  all  the  things  of  a  man,  or 
been  able  to  sympathize  with  them.  And,  therefore, 
with  a  fearless  truthfulness,  Scripture  tells  us  that 
*'  He  increased  in  wisdom,"  that  "  He  waxed  strong 
in  spirit,"  that  "  He  learned  obedience,"  that  "  He 
was   made   perfect  through  suffering  ;  "  leaving  the 


LAZARUS.  257 

mystery  and  seeming  contradiction  untouched.  The 
combination  of  human  ignorance  and  superhuman 
knowledge,  which  we  see  apparently  in  the  working 
of  the  miracle  upon  Lazarus,  would  be  in  entire  har- 
mony with  the  union  of  human  weakness  and  Divine 
power  which  is  so  noticeable  in  all  Christ's  miracles, 
and  in  His  own  person  as  Son  of  Man  and  Son  of  God 
—  in  His  whole  life  as  our  human  brother,  and  yet 
our  Divine  Redeemer.  It  was  He  who  thirsted  by 
the  well  of  Sychar  who  offered  to  give  the  woman  of 
Samaria  living  water  ;  it  was  He  who  fell  asleep  in 
the  boat  who  rebuked  the  raging  winds  and  waves. 
And  therefore  we  should  not  stumble  at  the  recorded 
fact,  that  He  who  said,  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and 
the  life,"  should  nevertheless  ask  the  mourners  to 
show  Him  the  place  where  His  dead  friend  was  laid. 
But  we  are  not  under  the  necessity  of  entering  upon 
this  wide  and  profound  subject  of  the  limitations  of 
Christ's  human  nature  in  the  present  instance.  The 
question  which  Jesus  asked  of  the  Jews  might  well 
have  been  of  a  similar  kind  to  that  which  He  asked 
Philip  before  the  miracle  of  the  loaves  and  fishes, 
"  Whence  shall  we  buy  bread  that  these  may  eat,"  — 
not  needing  any  advice,  or  being  Himself  in  any  real 
embarrassment,  but  simply  to  test  the  faith  of  the 
disciple.  The  asking  of  the  question,  and  the  guid- 
ing of  Jesus  to  the  spot  by  the  Jews,  did  not  neces- 
sarily imply  ignorance  on  His  part.  It  was  one  of 
17 


258  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

the  essential  circumstances  of  the  miracle.  It  in- 
sured the  attendance  of  the  Jews  at  the  grave  as  wit- 
nesses, while  the  procedure  might  be  intended  to 
work  in  their  minds — to  suggest  thoughts  of  the 
object  of  this  visit  to  the  sepulchre  —  and  thus  to 
prepare  them  for  the  wonder  which  He  was  about  to 
perform. 

And  now  we  come  to  the  shortest  and  most  won- 
derful verse  in  the  whole  Bible,  —  "Jesus  wept."  I 
am  strongly  tempted  to  do  nothiniji;  more  than  repeat 
the  words  ;  for  I  feel  that  to  comment  upon  them  is 
to  gild  the  sunshine  and  paint  the  lily.  All  words  of 
explanation  are  poor  and  tame  beside  that  all-com- 
prehensive saying.  The  Evangelist  himself  can  add 
nothing  to  them.  He  leaves  them  by  themselves  in 
all  their  beauty  and  simplicity,  like  the  small  seeds 
of  some  very  lovely  and  fragrant  flower,  to  grow  in 
every  human  heart,  and  there  disclose,  according  to 
individual  capacities  and  wants,  all  their  germinating 
fulness.  Small  as  a  grain  of  mustard  seed  the  verse 
is  ;  but  it  has  the  whole  kingdom  of  heaven  within 
it.  It  is  the  Christian  religion  alone  that  reveals  to 
us  a  God  of  tears.  The  conception  is  utterly  be- 
yond all  the  other  religions  of  mankind,  that  love  to 
dwell  upon  the  power  and  grandeur  of  their  divini- 
ties, but  attribute  to  them  none  of  the  meek  graces 
and  passive  virtues  of  humanity.  The  gods  of  the 
East  were  stern  fates,  or  placid  deities,  sunk  in  im- 


LAZARUS.  259 

mortal  repose  behind  the  deep  blue  oriental  sky  ; 
while  the  gods  of  Olympus,  of  Greek  and  Roman 
mythology,  were  ever  pictured  by  the  poets  as  beings 
free  from  all  sorrow,  leading  joyful  or  tranquil  lives 
unrippled  by  any  care,  coming  down  to  our  woe- 
stricken  world  as  visitors  only,  bent  upon  selfish 
amusement  or  agreeable  adventure,  undertaking,  but 
only  in  sport,  our  human  tasks,  and  altogether  un- 
touched by  the  sight  of  our  tears,  and  untroubled  by 
the  burden  of  our  woe.  No  human  imagination,  in- 
deed, could  reach  to  such  a  sublime  ideal  as  that  of 
a  weeping  God  —  a  God  stooping,  suffering,  and  dy- 
ing. Such  a  conception  is  to  the  human  mind  logi- 
cally impossible  ;  our  laws  of  thinking  are  totally  at 
fault  in  regard  to  such  a  thought  viewed  as  a  specu- 
lation. And  this  of  itself  is  proof  sufficient  that 
the  Evangelist  described  a  real  Divine  person,  and 
not  a  feigned  or  fabricated  one.  Had  the  narrative 
been  invented  by  human  ingenuity,  it  would  not,  we 
may  be  sure,  have  contained  this  sentence,  "Jesus 
wept."  The  imaginary  Christ,  as  it  has  been  well 
said,  would  have  walked  majestically  up  the  slope  of 
the  Mount  of  Olives,  and  standing  in  the  midst  of  an 
admiring  crowd,  with  a  halo  of  the  sunset  round  His 
brow,  have  commanded  the  dead  man  to  rise.  Even 
the  beloved  disciple,  with  all  his  tenderness  and 
spiritual  insight,  could  not  have  invented  the  real 
Christ  —  the   weary  and   way-worn    man,    His   gar 


260  THREE  RAISINGS  EROM  THE  DEAD. 

ments  soiled  and  stained  with  the  dust  of  travel,  who 
lifted  up  His  eyes  to  heaven  beside  the  grave  of  His 
friend,  and  wept  there  tears  as  salt  and  bitter  as  any 
that  ever  fell  from  human  eyes. 

"Jesus  wept."  The  dead  are  raised  to  life  by  no 
callous  philosopher  with  a  hard  eye  and  unfeeling 
heart ;  by  no  mighty  prophet,  who  stands  on  a  lofty 
pedestal  above  the  woe  he-seeks  to  relieve,  and  there 
utters  his  oracular  voice  ;  by  no  magician,  who  simply 
waves  his  wand  and  accomplishes,  with  no  cost  or 
effort  to  himself,  the  mighty  miracle  ;  by  no  God, 
who  stands  afar  off  in  the  heavens,  and  issues  His 
commandment  to  the  dead  to  rise,  as  He  issued  His 
commandment  to  light  to  appear  at  the  creation  ;  no, 
but  by  One  who  is  very  man,  with  the  tender  weak- 
ness that  is  more  moving  and  majestic  than  all  our 
strength,  and  the  sorrowful  experiences  that  are  more 
beautiful  and  precious  than  all  our  gladness.  Jesus 
came  down  to  the  level  of  the  sorrow.  He  identified 
Himself  with  it.  He  made  it  His  own.  By  bearing 
it  He  triumphed  over  it.  Not  by  any  exercise  of 
arbitrary  will  costing  Him  nothing  did  He  recall  the 
vanished  life  of  His  buried  friend.  On  the  contrary, 
it  seems  as  if  the  greatness  of  the  miracle  required  a 
correspondingly  great  expenditure  of  sorrow  and 
self-conflict.  Three  times  was  He  deeply  moved. 
"  He  groaned  in  the  spirit,  and  was  troubled,"  "  He 
wept,"  "Jesus,  again  groaning  in  Himself,  cometh  to 


LAZARUS.  261 


the  grave."  Himself  bore  our  infirmities  and  carried 
our  sorrows.  In  the  sorrow,  in  the  sweat  of  His 
soul,  He  wrought  the  miracles  which  are  signifi- 
cantly called  "  works."  He  bruised  the  serpent's 
head  through  the  wounding  of  His  own  heel. 

"Jesus  wept."  We  are  accustomed  to  think  of 
Christ's  sorrows  as  only  vicarious  ;  but,  though  He 
was  wounded  for  our  transgressions,  and  bruised  for 
our  iniquities,  His  was  no  mere  rehearsal  of  sorrow. 
His  sorrows  were  His  own  as  fully  is  our  sorrows 
are  ours.  We  say  that  there  are  two  sad  human  ex- 
periences which  the  Man  of  Sorrows  did  not  know — 
the  sorrow  caused  by  personal  sin,  and  the  sorrow 
caused  by  personal  bereavement.  Sinless,  He  could 
have  had  no  remorse ;  a  homeless  man,  He  had  no 
home  to  be  despoiled  by  death.  And  yet,  on  the  two 
occasions  on  which  He  is  said  to  have  wept.  His  tears 
were  caused  by  the  sins  and  miseries  of  the  doomed 
city  of  Jerusalem,  and  by  the  anguish  of  a  household 
which  death  had  made  desolate,  and  He  felt  these  as 
if  they  were  His  own. 

"Jesus  wept."  To  many  minds  this  sorrow  of 
Jesus  is  incomprehensible.  Some  commentators 
stumble  at  it.  Why  weep,  when  the  next  moment 
life  is  to  be  restored  to  the  dead  .?  Jesus  certainly 
knew  that  He  was  about  immediately  to  restore  Laz- 
arus ;  and,  indeed.  He  had  said,  "  I  am  glad  for  your 
sakes   that   I  was   not  there,  to   the  intent   that  ye 


262  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

might  believe."  But  tliis  apparent  difficulty  only 
gives  us  a  deeper  glimpse  of  the  perfect  humanity  of 
Jesus.  He  looked  at  the  matter  not  from  His  own, 
but  from  Martha's  and  Mary's  point  of  view.  He 
knew  what  He  was  about  to  do  ;  but  they  did  not 
know,  and  therefore  His  feelings  were  touched  by 
the  sight  of  their  suffering.  He  wept  in  sympathy 
with  them,  although  He  was  about  to  change  their 
sorrow  into  joy ;  He  sorrowed  with  them  for  the 
very  sorrow  which  His  presence  might  have  pre- 
vented. Who  could  shed  tears  in  such  circumstances 
but  Christ }  Would  the  physician  who  knew  that  he 
had  the  power  of  giving  immediate  relief  be  affected 
by  the  tears  of  a  family  drowned  in  grief .''  Had  a 
mere  man  been  gifted  by  God  with  the  power  to 
raise  the  dead,  he  would  be  so  eager  to  exhibit  that 
marvellous  power,  and  thereby  to  still  the  mourners* 
woe,  that  he  would  be  unable  to  weep  whilst  on  the 
way  to  the  grave.  But  Jesus  was  more  than  man  ; 
and  therefore,  as  the  greater  comprehends  the  less, 
so  He  fulfilled  the  perfect  ideal  of  man.  And  is  not 
this  scene  at  Bethany  a  picture  of  what  He  who  is 
the  same  yesterday,  to-day,  and  forever  is  still  '^.  Al- 
though He  has  entered  into  His  glory,  and  is  seated 
on  the  throne  of  the  universe,  He  weeps  with  us 
when  we  weep  ;  sympathizes  with  us  in  our  sorrow, 
while  He  waits  to  be  gracious,  waits  to  bring  light 
out  of  our  darkness,  and  change  our  sorrow  into  ever- 
lasting joy. 


LAZARUS.  263 

"  Jesus  wept."  When  He  saw  Mary  weeping,  and 
the  Jews  also  weeping,  He  wept.  We  do  not  usually 
speak  of  the  imagination  of  Jesus.  And  yet  it  was 
this  faculty  that  enabled  Him  to  realize  so  vividly  the 
sorrow  of  others,  on  this  occasion,  as  to  stir  up  the 
deepest  feelings  of  His  own  breast.  One  writer  has 
classed  the  imagination  among  the  moral  qualities, 
and  as  one  of  the  most  valuable  of  them.  And  cer- 
tainly some  of  the  noblest  actions  are  due  to  the  pos- 
session of  this  faculty,  and  some  of  the  basest  and 
most  hateful  characteristics  of  humanity  are  caused 
by  the  absence  of  it.  If  we  could  put  ourselves  in 
the  place  of  others,  and  imagine  what  they  think  and 
how  they  feel,  there  would  be  far  less  cruelty,  selfish- 
ness, bigotry,  hardness,  and  pretentiousness  in  the 
world.  The  tortures  of  the  Inquisition  could  never 
have  been  invented  by  a  human  being  who  had  the 
least  spark  of  imagination  ;  and  many  of  the  petty 
selfishnesses  and  cruelties  of  common  life  would 
never  have  been  indulged  or  inflicted  were  men  and 
women  able  to  form  any  idea  of  what  it  is  that  they 
make  their  victims  suffer.  How  reassuring,  then,  is 
the  thought  that  there  is  something  in  God  that  an- 
swers to  our  own  imagination,  and  by  means  of  which 
He  can  put  Himself  in  our  place  ;  for  we  have  in 
this  recognition  the  certainty  that  He  cannot  deal 
otherwise  than  fairly  with  us.  He  whose  imagina- 
tion on  earth  enabled  Him  to  realize  the  sorrow  of 


264  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

the  family  of  Bethany,  knows  now,  on  the  throne  of 
heaven,  what  we  feel  and  need,  and  has  the  truest 
sympathy  with  our  state,  and  will  in  the  end  judge 
us  equitably. 

"  Jesus  wept."  There  is  no  human  power  that  can 
so  deeply  touch  the  soul  of  a  sinner  as  the  sorrow 
which  his  sin  has  brought  upon  a  loved  and  loving 
heart.  The  tears  of  Jesus  have  touched  many  whom 
His  terrors  could  not  have  moved.  We  have  seen 
God  in  the  fire  and  smoke,  and  heard  His  voice  in 
the  thunders  of  Sinai  ;  we  have  felt  His  judgments 
and  trembled  under  His  power  ;  but  we  have  stif- 
fened ourselves  against  all  the  wondrous  displays  and 
activities  of  His  omnipotent  rule.  But  when  we  see 
Him  weeping,  we  are  melted  at  once.  When  we 
look  upon  the  tears  of  Jesus,  caused  by  our  sin,  and 
behold  in  them  the  patience  and  tenderness  of  His 
love,  our  hearts  are  carried  captive  ;  we  relent  and 
become  as  pHable  as  little  children.  We  understand 
through  those  sacred  tears  that,  whatever  sin  may 
cost  the  sinner,  it  costs  far  more  to  the  Saviour.  We 
recognize  in  them  the  manifestation  of  a  Divine  love 
to  the  prodigal  and  the  guilty  which  cannot  be  satis- 
fied, even  amid  the  glory  of  heaven,  while  one  lost 
soul  is  wandering  sadly  in  the  wilderness  ;  of  a  sym- 
pathy with  even  the  sinful  woes  of  humanity  which 
cannot  subside  into  the  calm  of  the  eternal  joy,  until 
His  hand  has  wiped  away  all  tears  from  weeping  eyes 


LAZARUS.  265 

The  grace  that  is  in  these  tears  of  Christ  is  the  con- 
queror of  sin  ;  it  tiiumphs  where  the  law  fails. 

"Jesus  wept."  Twice,  I  have  said,  it  is  recorded 
that  Jesus  wept.  He  wept  in  sympathy  with  the 
sisters  of  Bethany.  A  few  days  afterwards  He  wept 
in  pity  over  the  city  of  Jerusalem.  The  Greek 
words  employed  to  signify  these  two  weepings  are 
not  the  same.  The  weeping  of  Jesus  at  the  grave  of 
Lazarus  is  expressed  by  a  word  in  the  original  which 
means  a  silent  flow  of  tears.  It  was  a  soothing  sor- 
row that  He  felt,  for  it  was  well  with  His  friend  ;  and 
it  was  well  with  his  living  sisters  who  were  weeping 
around.  Infinite  love  mingled  its  tears  with  those 
of  Martha  and  Mary,  and  the  light  of  heaven  illu- 
mined their  darkness  and  cheered  their  sadness.  It 
is  a  blessed  thought  to  us  that  "  Jesus  wept,"  when 
we  too  have  not  to  sorrow  as  those  who  have  no 
hope  ;  there  is  no  gloom  in  such  a  case  in  the  deso- 
lation ;  there  is  no  bitterness  in  the  tears.  The  grief  * 
of  Jesus  is  left  on  record  to  comfort  our  grief.  His 
sorrow  pities  our  sorrow  ;  our  wounded  hearts  are 
healed  by  the  touch  of  His  wounded  heart  ;  and  His 
inspiring  words  about  resurrection  and  life  shine 
with  greater  beauty  and  brightness  in  the  darkness 
of  death,  because  they  are  jewelled  with  the  tears  of 
His  tender  pity.  But  the  weeping  of  Jesus  over 
Jerusalem  is  expressed  by  a  word  that  signifies  loud 
lamentation.     His  tears  were  bitter  and  burning,  for 


2C6  -JJIREE   RAISINGS  FROM    THE   DEAD. 

Jci  iisalcni  was  resisting  the  Divine  love  and  despis- 
ing the  heavenly  grace  that  had  come  to  her.  An 
inlinitude  of  yearning  pity  overmastered  Him,  and 
He  not  only  wept,  but  burst  into  a  passion  of  lamen- 
tation, in  which  the  choked  voice  seemed  to  struggle 
for  utterance.  VVe  can  hear  the  very  sound  of  tears 
in  Mis  words,  broken  as  they  are  by  emotion,  "  If 
thou  hadst  known,  even  thou,  at  least  in  this  thy  day, 
the  things  that  belong  to  thy  peace,  but  now  they  are 
hid  from  thine  eyes."  And  the  solemn  lesson  which 
the  weeping  of  Jesus  over  Jerusalem,  while  it  was 
yet  fair  and  flourishing  and  unconscious  of  its  doom, 
teaches  us,  is  that  we  may  paralyze  our  own  power 
of  turning  to  Christ  even  while  He  is  waiting  to  be 
gracious,  and  all  the  possibilities  of  salvation  may  be 
over  before  death  comes  ;  that  '*  on  the  dead  soul  in 
the  living  body  the  gates  of  the  eternal  tomb  may 
have  closed,  never  more  to  be  opened."  Over  the 
grave  of  a  soul  that  is  unmelted  by  all  the  touching 
proofs  of  His  Divine  love,  and  dead  to  all  the  un- 
speakable tendernesses  of  His  cross,  Jesus  pours  out 
tears  of  unutterable  sadness ;  and  the  misery  to 
which  in  such  a  case  we  doom  ourselves  presses  as  a 
sorer  burden  upon  His  heart,  than  all  the  sufferings 
and  sorrows  which  He  endured  for  us  in  His  expia- 
tory life  and  death. 

The  sight  of  Jesus'  tears  produced  a  deep  impres- 
sion upon  the  bystanders.     It  led  them    to  form   a 


LAZARUS.  267 

more  favorable  opinion  of  Him  than  ihcy  had  hith- 
erto entertained.  Sorrow  for  their  mutual  friend 
reconciled  them  to  Him  for  a  moment  ;  and  they 
lost  sight  of  their  animosity  in  the  indulgence  of  a 
common  sympathy  —  "  Behold  how  He  loved  him." 
Tears  arc  not,  however,  always  the  sign  of  a  devoted 
attachment.  There  are  narrow  and  shallow  natures, 
as  I  have  already  said,  that  can  be  easily  made  to 
weep  ;  while  wide  and  profound  natures  may  give 
little  outward  evidence  of  an  agony  that  is  rending 
their  very  heart-strings  and  changing  the  complexion 
of  their  whole  life.  Throw  a  pebble  into  a  brooklet, 
and  you  violently  agitate  the  whole  mass  of  water 
from  side  to  side  ;  while  a  stone  cast  into  a  broad 
deep  river  creates  on  the  calm  surface  only  a  few 
ripples  as  it  sinks  to  the  depths.  There  is  often  a 
hard,  selfish  and  stubborn  heart  beneath  the  temper- 
ament whose  sensibilities  are  quickly  moved  by  every 
breeze  of  circumstance.  Experience  of  life  has  too 
often  proved  that  noisy,  demonstrative  sorrow,  like 
the  loud-falling  rain,  runs  off  the  soul  very  quickly  ; 
while  quiet,  unobtrusive  grief  accumulates  and  re- 
mains, like  the  silent  falling  of  snow-flakes,  until  all 
warm  colors  and  bright  forms  of  joy  are  blotted  out 
by  the  uniform  drift,  and  all  life  lies  under  a  dreary 
white  shroud  of  death.  In  the  case  of  Jesus,  how- 
ever, the  judgment  of  the  Jews  was  correct.  His 
tears  were  a  true  indication  of  the  depth  and  extent 


268  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

of  His  'ove.  His  nature  was  calm  and  deep,  moving 
with  a  profound  heavenly  peace  in  the  midst  of  the 
most  agitating-  circumstances  —  as  the  earth  revolves 
steadfastly  on  its  axis  while  storms  are  raging  on  its 
surface.  He  did  not  usually  betray  the  emotions 
that  filled  Him  ;  and  it  is  a  proof  of  the  powerful 
nature  of  His  emotions,  on  this  occasion,  that  He 
should  have  given  them  outward  expression.  But 
the  Evangelist,  while  recording  the  exceptional  inci- 
dent, is  at  the  same  time  careful  to  use  a  phrase  in 
the  original  which  implies,  not  that  Jesus  "  was 
troubled,"  but  that  He  troubled  HUnself.  He  was 
not  played  upon  passively  by  the  emotions  of  others, 
like  the  surface  of  a  lake  that  is  agitated  by  the  un- 
certain wind  ;  a  volcanic  fire  within  stirred  the  very 
depths  of  His  nature. 

The  highest  proof  which  the  Jews  possessed  of  the 
love  of  Jesus  to  Lazarus,  was  the  expression  of  His 
sorrow.  But  we  have  far  higher  proof  of  His  love 
to  us.  He  gave  His  tears  for  Lazarus  ;  He  gave  His 
life  for  us  !  "  He  loved  me,  and  gave  Himself  for 
me  "  —  not  only  for  my  benefit,  but  in  my  place,  as 
my  surety  and  substitute  —  may  every  believer  say 
with  the  Apostle  Paul.  "  Greater  love  hath  no  man 
than  this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friend." 
But  the  love  of  Jesus  is  more  than  human  ;  for  He 
laid  down  His  life  for  us,  not  while  we  were  friends, 
but  while  we  were  aliens  and  enemies  —  "  While  we 


LAZARUS.  269 

were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us."  The  Sinless 
One  took  the  place  of  the  sinful.  The  Eternal  Crea- 
tor gave  Himself  for  the  guilty  perishing  creature. 
Blessed  be  God,  not  the  tears  shed  at  the  grave  of  a 
friend,  but  the  long  history  of  His  suffering  life  and 
of  His  atoning  death  of  shame  and  pain,  is  the  meas- 
ure of  the  love  of  Christ  to  us.  The  Cross,  on 
which  He  consummated  the  sacrifice  of  Himself,  is 
the  symbol  and  the  throne  of  His  conquering  love. 
Taking  my  place  beside  that  Cross,  and  gazing  upon 
the  buffeted  face  and  the  thorn-crowned  brow,  and 
the  nailed  hands  and  feet,  and  the  agonizing  thirst, 
and  the  horror  of  a  great  darkness,  and  the  mournful 
eyes  closing  in  death  —  I  can  say,  "  Behold  how  He 
loved  me  !  "  And  are  tears  from  me,  caused  by  the 
contemplation  of  that  dying  love,  sufficient  to  show 
my  love  to  Him  }  Is  it  enough  that  my  sympathies 
should  be  excited,  and  I  should  weep  over  the  pathos 
of  this  devotion,  or  even  adore  and  magnify  the  suf- 
ferer }  No  ;  for  all  that  may  be  merely  a  sentimen- 
tal sorrow,  an  outburst  of  natural  feeling,  which  a 
touching  and  well-told  fictitious  story  could  have 
produced  in  an  equal  or  even  stronger  degree,  leav- 
ing the  depths  of  the  heart  utterly  unaffected.  It  is 
not  enough  even  to  bewail  the  sins  that  caused  all 
His  sufferings  ;  I  must  give  practical  and  conclusive 
evidence  of  the  sincerity  of  my  feelings  by  keeping 
His  commandments,  and  leading  a  life  of  devotion  to 


2/0  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

His  service.  His  giving  Himself  for  me  is  the  proof 
of  His  love  ;  and  my  giving  myself  for  Him  is  the 
proof  of  my  love.  His  love  reproduces  itself  in  me 
only  when  I  live  no  more  unto  myself,  but  unto  Him 
that  died  for  me  and  rose  again.  Let  me  seek, 
therefore,  to  live  so  holy  and  devoted  a  life  by  the 
strength  of  His  death,  and  in  imitation  of  His  ex- 
ample, as  that  even  the  enemies  of  religion  may  be 
constrained  to  say  of  me,  ''  Behold  how  he  loved 
Him." 

But  the  sight  of  Christ's  tears  did  not  produce  the 
same  impression  upon  all  the  spectators.  There 
were  some  among  them  who  questioned  the  extent 
of  His  love  —  seeing  that  He  calmly  permitted  the 
light  of  life  to  fade  out  of  the  home  of  His  friends. 
"  Could  not  this  man,"  they  said,  "  who  opened  the 
eyes  of  the  blind,  have  caused  that  even  this  man 
should  not  have  died  t "  He  weeps  over  the  calam- 
ity now  ;  it  would  have  been  better  far  had  He  pre- 
vented it  altogether.  They  had  heard  of  the  won- 
derful cure  which,  a  short  time  before,  had  been 
wrought  upon  a  man  who  was  born  blind.  It  had 
been  judicially  investigated  by  the  authorities  ;  it 
had  made  a  great  noise  in  Jerusalem.  Perhaps  some 
of  themselves  had  known  the  man,  or  witnessed  the 
cure,  or  taken  part  in  his  examination  and  expulsion 
from  the  synagogue.  The  genuineness  of  the  mar- 
vel could  not,  therefore,  be  doubted.     This  man,  be* 


LAZARUS.  271 

yond  all  question  or  cavil,  did  possess  very  extraor- 
dinary powers.  Why,  then,  did  He  not  exert  those 
powers  to  save  His  friend  ?  It  was  not,  surely,  more 
difficult  to  heal  a  fever  than  to  cure  a  congeni'.al 
blindness.  This  admission  is  remarkable,  not  only 
because  it  is  the  testimony  of  Christ's  enemies  to 
His  miraculous  gifts,  but  also  because  of  the  contra- 
dictions which  it  involves.  Those  who  made  it  do  not 
seem  to  hav-e  heard  of  the  other  restorations  of  Jesus 
in  far  Galilee,  or,  at  least,  to  have  realized  them  so  viv- 
idly as  the  cure  of  blindness  in  their  own  neighbor- 
hood. And,  therefore,  the  idea  seems  never  to  have 
occurred  to  them  that  He  who  could  cure  radical 
blindness  could  raise  the  dead  —  that  He  who  could 
have  prevented  death  could  have  conquered  death. 
But,  further  —  if,  as  they  believed,  Jesus  won  His 
power  of  doing  miracles  from  Heaven  on  account  of 
His  surpassing  goodness,  then  they  might  have  been 
sure  that  that  very  goodness  would  not  have  allowed 
Him  to  act  inconsistently  with  it  in  the  case  of  His 
friend  —  that  nothing  would  have  prevented  Him  from 
exercising  His  power  had  it  been  at  all  possible.  But 
these  contradictions  did  not  strike  them  any  more 
than  did  the  contradiction  in  what  they  said  regard- 
ing the  blind  man  strike  His  disciples  —  "Who  did 
sin,  this  man  or  his  parents,  that  he  vv-as  born  blind  .'" 
They  are  characteristic  and  significant.  They  are 
involved  in  all  similar  accusations  of  the  Divine  pro- 


2/2  THREE  RAISLYGS  EROM    THE  DEAD. 

cedure.  They  are  based  upon  the  grand  primary  fact 
of  the  permission  of  evil.  Could  not  the  Lord  have 
prevented  the  fall  of  man  and  all  its  consequences  ? 
we  ask ;  forgetting  that  human  freedom  stood  in  the 
way  of  compulsory  sinlessness,  and  that  God  could 
not  forcibly  oppose  the  free-will  which  He  had  be- 
stowed as  an  inalienable  gift  upon  man  —  without 
contradicting  Himself.  The  question  which  the 
Jews  put  is  one  which  often  occurs  to  us,  though 
we  may  not  give  it  expression,  when  we  are  per- 
plexed by  the  mysteries  of  God's  providence,  and 
our  feet  well-nigh  slip.  We  see  the  head  of  a  family 
suddenly  cut  down  in  the  pride  of  his  strength,  and 
his  wife  and  children,  tenderly  nurtured  and  cared 
for,  left  without  provision  to  do  battle,  in  their  grief 
and  helplessness,  with  a  cold  and  bitter  world.  We 
see  a  loving  Christian  mother  taken  from  her  little 
ones  when  they  most  need  her,  and  they  are  left  to 
grow  up  as  best  they  may  under  the  cold  shelter  and 
hard  rule  of  an  unloving  guardian.  And  the  thought 
arises  —  Could  not  He  who  pitieth  us  as  a  father  pit- 
ieth  his  children,  who  comforts  us  as  one  whom  his 
mother  comforteth,  have  caused  that  this  husband, 
this  mother,  should  not  have  died  .?  He  has  done 
things  as  great  and  gracious  in  their  own  way  for  us 
before.  Every  human  history  contains  a  record  of 
special  providences  and  Divine  interpositions,  in  sit- 
uation of  extreme  danger  and  difficulty,  which  may  be 


LAZARUS.  273 

regarded  as  little  short  of  miraculous.  Why,  there- 
fore, does  not  He  who,  in  those  former  instances, 
manifested  His  love  and  power  in  our  behalf  —  inter- 
fere for  the  prevention  of  this  present  calamity  ? 

The  widow  of  Zarephath  might  have  said  of  Elisha, 
Could  not  this  man  who  multiplied  my  cruse  of  oil 
and  my  barrel  of  meal  day  after  day  in  the  midst  of 
universal  famine,  have  caused  that  my  child  should 
not  have  died  ?  Why  the  power  should  have  failed 
in  the  one  case  and  not  in  the  other  must  have 
seemed  a  dark  mystery  to  her.  Why  should  it  have 
gone  so  far  as  it  did  and  no  farther  }  This  is  the 
perplexing  element  in  all  the  trials  of  life.  Just  as  of 
old  Christ's  miracle-working  created  disappointment 
and  perplexity  because  it  went  only  a  certain  length 
—  for  it  seemed  so  unaccountable  that  the  extraordi- 
nary power  should  be  put  forth  only  in  a  few  cases 
and  at  rare  intervals,  when  it  might  have  been  exer- 
cised on  every  occasion  in  bestowing  blessings  and 
warding  off  evils  —  so  it  seems  a  disappointing  and 
perplexing  circumstance  in  the  providential  dealing 
of  God  with  His  own  people,  that  when  He  does  so 
much  for  them  He  does  not  do  more  ;  that  when  He 
gives  them  so  many  things  richly  to  enjoy  He  takes 
away  or  withholds  from  them  the  very  thing  upon 
which  their  heart  is  most  set.  It  is  natural  to  ex- 
pect that  the  favorite  of  Heaven  should  be  exempted 
from  the  evils  which  fall  upon  others.     A  friend,  if 


THREE  RAISINGS   FROM  THE   DEAD. 

he  had  the  power,  would  make  Ufe  easy  and  pleasant 
to  his  friend  ;  a  father,  if  he  could,  would  remove 
every  thorn  from  the  path  of  his  child.  God  has  the 
power,  and  if  He  is  the  Father  and  the  Friend  of  His 
people,  why  does  He  allow  them  to  suffer  and  to  die 
when  by  the  slightest  exercise  of  His  will  He  could 
have  averted  suffering  and  death  ?  The  sorely-tried 
believer  may  say,  "  If  I  am  His,  why  am  I  thus  ?  " 
And  yet,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  special  favor  of  God 
to  the  widow  of  Zarephath  did  not  prevent  her  son 
from  dying ;  the  love  of  Jesus  did  not  shield  the 
family  of  Bethany  from  bereavement.  David  said, 
and  his  own  history  abundantly  verified  the  words, 
"  Many  are  the  afflictions  of  the  righteous  ;  "  and  the 
Saviour  said  to  His  disciples,  and  the  saying  was 
fulfilled  throughout  their  whole  subsequent  ex- 
perience, "  In  the  world  ye  shall  have  tribulation." 
He  who  opened  the  eyes  of  the  blind  man  in  Jeru- 
salem could  no  doubt  have  prevented  the  death  of 
Lazarus.  That  He  had  the  power  is  self-evident  ; 
there  is  no  difficulty  about  that.  But,  as  I  have 
shown  already,  there  were  higher  considerations  that 
restrained  His  omnipotent  arm.  The  personal  dis- 
cipline of  Lazarus,  the  education  of  His  sisters  in 
the  higher  Christian  life,  the  convicting  the  Jews 
of  righteousness  and  judgment,  the  fulfillment  of 
Christ's  own  destiny,  and  the  instruction  and  comfort 
pf   the  whole  Christian  church  down    to  the   latest 


LAZARUS.  ,275 

ages,  were  purposes  to  be  subserved  by  our  Lord's 
allowing  the  illness  of  Lazarus  to  run  its  natural 
course. 

And  considerations,  in  their  own  order  equall}" 
great  and  gracious,  will  be  seen  in  every  case  in 
which  the  natural  evils  of  life  are  allowed  to  do  their 
work  upon  God's  children.  Indeed,  every  instance 
of  suffering  on  the  part  of  His  people  is  only  an  illus- 
tration of  the  great  principle  which  regulated  His 
treatment  of  our  first  parents.  He  could  have  kept 
Adam  and  Eve  after  the  fall  in  Eden,  with  all  things 
fair  and  pleasant  around  them  ;  but  He  chose  rather 
to  banish  them  into  the  wilderness,  that  through  the 
discipline  of  its  trials  and  hardships  they  might  re- 
cover a  higher  happiness  and  nobler  freedom  than 
they  had  lost.  This  exile  He  Himself  shared  ;  He 
went  out  with  them  from  Eden  into  the  accursed  and 
thorny  waste,  and  was  afflicted  in  all  their  afflictions. 
God  could  still  surround  His  people  with  the  calm 
idyllic  life  of  Eden,  but  He  has  a  higher  blessedness 
in  store  for  them  ;  and  therefore  He  allures  them 
into  the  wilderness,  that  there  He  may  speak  com- 
fortably to  them,  and  establish  closer  and  tenderer 
relations  between  Himself  and  them  than  they  could 
ever  otherwise  have  known.  He  could  have  saved 
Lazarus  from  death  ;  but  how  much,  in  that  case, 
would  have  been  lost  to  Lazarus,  to  his  sisters,  and 
to  all  the  race.     In  allowing  Lazarus  to  die,  He  had 


276  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

the  higher  good  of  all  concerned  at  heart  ;  and,  in 
the  sad  lonely  wilderness  of  bereavement  to  which 
He  allured  the  sisters,  He  made  Himself  their  com- 
panion in  tribulation;  He  wept  with  them  and  shared 
the  burden  of  their  sorrow.  Not  to  our  first  parents 
in  the  garden  did  God  disclose  what  He  has  shown 
to  the  fallen  guilty  race  of  men,  in  the  wilderness  of 
pain  and  toil  and  death  to  which  He  banished  them 
—  His  pillar  of  cloud  and  fire,  His  tabernacle  of 
witness,  His  smitten  rock,  and  all  His  watchful 
solicitude.  Not  to  the  unbroken  and  prosperous 
family  circle  of  Bethany  did  Jesus  reveal  such  ex- 
quisite tendernesses  and  depths  of  holy  pity  and  love, 
as  He  disclosed  when  death  had  made  their  home 
desolate  and  their  hearts  empty  and  lonely.  He 
talked  with  them  in  the  Eden  of  their  unblighted  do- 
mestic happiness,  and  manifested  to  them  the  wisdom 
of  the  teacher  and  the  kindness  of  the  friend ;  but,  in 
the  wilderness  of  their  bereavement,  under  the  dark 
shadow  of  death  that  brooded  over  their  home  and 
heart.  He  wept  and  suffered  with  them  ;  He  groaned 
in  the  spirit,  and  was  troubled  ;  He  revealed  to  them 
the  unutterable  beauty  and  tenderness  of  a  love  that 
passeth  knowledge.  And,  therefore,  as  it  was  expedi- 
ent for  the  disciples  that  Jesus  Himself  should  go 
away,  in  order  that  the  Comforter  might  come  and 
show  to  them  higher  glimpses  of  the  Saviour's  person 
and  work  ;  so  it  was  expedient  that  Lazarus  should 


LAZARUS.  277 

go  away  from  the  home  in  Bethany,  in  order  that,  in 
the  loss  of  the  earthly  friend,  the  sisters  might  gain 
truer  and  nobler  views  of  the  Heavenly  Friend  that 
sticketh  closer  than  a  brother.  The  power  of  Jesus 
could  have  prevented  death  ;  but  they  needed  to 
know  other  attributes  of  His  nature  besides  His  mere 
power  ;  they  needed  to  know  His  sympathy  and  ten- 
derness ;  they  needed  to  know  the  power,  not  of  His 
arm  only,  but  of  His  heart.  We  need  other  revela- 
tions of  God's  character  besides  His  omnipotence, 
and  these  revelations  can  only  be  given  in  times  of 
sorrow  and  bereavement.  *'  Thou  knowest  my  soul 
in  adversities,  and  I  know  Thee  in  them,"  may  every 
tried  and  trusting  soul  say  to  God. 

In  due  time  the  sisters  of  Lazarus  knew  and  un- 
derstood fully  the  reason  why  He  who  opened  the 
eyes  of  the  blind  man  did  not  interpose  to  save  their 
brother  from  death.  And,  similarly,  if  we  endure 
patiently  and  profit  wisely  by  the  evils  which  God 
permits  to  come  upon  us,  we  shall  know  in  due  time 
the  reason  of  them  and  be  satisfied.  We  shall 
understand  why  He  who  feeds  us  day  by  day,  by  an 
agency  as  wonderful  as  that  of  Elijah's  ravens, 
should,  nevertheless,  as  in  his  case,  allow  our  brook 
to  dry  up  ;  why  He  who  causes  our  barrel  of  meal 
and  cruse  of  oil  to  be  replenished  afresh  every  day, 
should,  notwithstanding,  leave  the  child  or  the  friend 
of  our  love  to  die.     We   shall  understand  whv  He 


278  THREE  RAISINGS  EROM   THE   DEAD. 

who  dwells  with  us  as  our  loving  Friend  and  familiar 
Guest  should  tarry  while  our  trouble  goes  on,  and 
permit  death  to  outrun  His  love  ;  why  He  who  has 
done  such  great  things  for  us,  whereof  we  are  glad, 
opened  our  eyes,  and  raised  us  from  death  to  life, 
should  yet  have  allowed  the  object  of  our  heart's  de- 
votion to  die,  and  life  to  be  to  us  henceforward  like 
the  white  silent  channel  of  a  brook  from  which  the 
water  has  failed.  And,  in  the  understanding,  we 
shall  realize  the  blessed  truth,  that  He  who  sent  His 
own  Son  to  share  their  toil  and  suffering,  when  He 
sent  fallen  humanity  into  exile,  sends  the  Man  of 
Sorrows  with  us  into  the  midst  of  our  sorrows,  that 
memories  of  His  own  Gethsemane  and  Calvary  may 
mingle  with  ours  ;  and  thus,  in  the  fellowship  of  His 
sufferings,  create  a  friendship  and  establish  a  com- 
munion which  will  make  the  bed  of  sickness  and  the 
chamber  of  sorrow  and  death  seem  the  very  gate  of 
heaven. 

And  now  Jesus  stood  beside  the  sepulchre.  It 
was  a  simple  cave  hewn  out  of  the  side  of  the  hill,  on 
the  outside  of  the  village  —  for  the  Jews  never  placed 
the  dead  among  the  living  —  and  not  far  from  the 
boundary  wall.  Within  this  cave  there  were  smaller 
cavities  formed  in  the  sides  of  the  rock  for  the  recep- 
tion of  the  bodies  of  the  dead,  after  the  manner  of 
the  Egyptian  tombs  in  which  mummies  were  depos- 
ited.    Over  the  mouth  of  the  cave  was  laid  a  huge 


LAZARUS. 


279 


Stone,  in  order  to  guard  the  remains  within  from  des- 
ecration, and  especially  from  the  ravages  of  dogs, 
jackals,  and  other  beasts  of  prey,  which  have  not 
nnfrequently  been  known  to  rifle  tombs  of  their  con- 
tents. This  possession  of  a  family  vault,  a  separate 
place  of  interment,  is  another  incidental  proof  of  the 
wealth  and  social  position  of  the  household  of  Beth- 
any. Only  the  wealthy,  were  laid  in  the  sepulchres 
of  their  fathers  —  in  portions  of  land  purchased  in 
fee,  and  set  apart  for  purposes  of  family  interment 
The  poor  were  buried  promiscuously  in  ground  that 
belonged  to  the  whole  community.  It  is  signifi- 
cantly said  that  "  The  Living  Water  "  sat  weary  and 
thirsty  beside  the  well  of  Sychar  ;  here  it  is  said, 
with  equal  significance,  that  "The  Resurrection  and 
the  Life"  stood  before  a  tomb  —  groaning  in  Him- 
self. Without,  in  the  open  air,  the  sky  is  serenely 
blue,  and  the  sunshine  purely  bright,  and  the  land- 
scape calmly  fair.  The  feathery  palm-trees  and 
dusky  olives  cast  their  motionless  shadows  on  the 
white  limestone  rocks,  as  if  there  were  no  sorrow  or 
death  in  the  world.  Within  all  is  gloom  and  horror, 
from  the  thought  of  which  the  soul  recoils  :  a  dead, 
forsaken  body,  buried  out  of  sight,  though  once  ten- 
derly loved  and  admired,  undergoing,  as  it  might 
appear,  that  fearful  process  of  decomposition  by 
which  dust  returns  to  dust  and  ashes  to  ashes.  The 
contrast  between  the  living   beauty  of   unconscious 


280  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

nature,  and  the  repulsive  stillness  and  decay  of  death 
—  which  often  strikes  us  sadly  on  a  bright  summer 
day,  when  laying  our  withered  roses  and  lilies  in  the 
garden  sepulchre  —  must  have  forced  itself  upon  the 
attention  of  Jesus,  and  deepened  for  Him  the  solemn 
sadness  of  the  scene.  It  is  said  that  He  groaned  in 
Himself  vj\\Qn  He  came  to  the  grave.  The  cause  of 
His  groaning  on  this  occasion  is,  I  think,  different 
from  that  which  moved  Him  so  deeply  before.  His 
sorrow  is  no  longer  outward,  but  inward.  None  of 
the  surrounding  spectators,  watching  him  keenly,  can 
see  the  thrill  of  anguish  that  passes  from  His  heart 
through  His  frame,  and  pulsates  in  every  nerve.  It 
is  a  secret  sorrow,  with  which  no  stranger  can  inter- 
meddle—  a  cross  which  cannot  be  displayed  —  a 
groaning  which  cannot  be  uttered.  No  doubt  the 
same  indignant  horror  of  death  as  the  seal  and  token 
of  sin,  as  an  unnatural  usurpation  over  a  race  made 
for  immortality,  entered  into  the  emotion  in  both 
cases  ;  but  the  former  groaning  had  in  it  more  of  the 
sympathetic  element  —  it  was  caused  by  sorrow  for 
the  death  of  a  friend ;  whereas  this  groaning  is 
purely  personal,  and  is  caused  by  the  anticipation  of 
His  own  death.  We  may  safely  suppose,  that  not 
only  was  His  heart  sorely  pained  because  of  the 
breach  which  death  had  made  in  this  once  tenderly- 
united  family,  tearing  asunder  the  most  cherished 
human   relationship,   but  also  that    the  cave  in   the 


LAZARUS.  281 

rock,  with  the  stone  laid  at  its  entrance,  presented  to 
Him  in  anticipation  the  picture  of  Joseph's  tomb 
hewn  out  of  the  rock  in  the  garden,  to  which  He  was 
fast  hastening.  He  who  looked  through  all  the  nat- 
ural causes  of  death  to  its  origin  in  the  moral  lapse 
of  man,  looked,  we  may  suppose,  on  this  occasion 
beyond  the  immediate  circumstances  of  the  burial  of 
His  friend  —  to  the  consummation  of  the  power  of 
death  in  His  own  death.  His  prescient  eye  at  that 
moment  overlooked  time  and  place,  and  saw  across 
the  valley  of  Jehosaphat,  at  the  foot  of  Calvary,  that 
"place  of  a  skull,"  where  His  own  dead  body,  with 
the  wounds  of  the  cross  upon  it,  was  to  repose  in  the 
humiliation  of  the  grave.  He  saw  that  grim  dungeon 
of  the  Castle  of  Despair,  white  with  the  blanched 
bones  of  countless  victims,  whose  gates  closing  a 
brief  space  around  Him,  He  was  to  carry  triumph- 
antly up  the  hill  of  God  ;  where,  through  the  greatest 
of  defeats,  He  was  to  achieve  the  mightiest  of  vic- 
tories. He  saw  the  dark,  thorny,  blood-stained  path, 
leading  down  to  the  dungeon,  which  He  had  to  trav- 
erse with  the  crushing  load  of  human  guilt  upon 
His  soul,  with  the  desertion  of  Heaven  and  the  ma- 
lignity of  hell  and  the  cruelty  of  earth  concentrating 
and  deepening  into  the  hour  and  power  of  darkness 
around  Him  ;  and  oh  !  need  it  be  wondered  at  that 
His  heart  should  for  a  moment  have  sunk  within 
Him  —  that  the  terrible  prospect  should  have  ex- 
torted from  Him  that  groan  of  unspeakable  anguish. 


282  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

Our  Saviour's  expiatory  death  and  burial,  with  all 
the  painful  and  humiliating  circumstances  connected 
with  them,  were  never  absent  from  His  thoughts  ; 
but  there  were  moments  when  the  anticipation  of 
them  came  over  Him.  with  peculiar  vividness  and 
agonizing  power.  Here  and  there  in  the  story  of 
the  Evangelists  we  come  upon  some  dark  significant 
expression  which  shows  us  how  bitter  an  element  it 
formed  in  His  cup  of  suffering.  Ominous  hints  of 
some  great  calamity  awaiting  Him  fell  ever  and  anon 
from  His  lips  in  earnest  converse  with  His  awe- 
struck disciples.  Again  and  again  we  hear  Him 
saying,  although  they  comprehended  it  not,  "  The 
Son  of  Man  shall  be  delivered  into  the  hands  of 
men  ;  "  "I  have  a  baptism  to  be  baptized  v/ith,  and 
how  am  I  straitened  until  it  be  accomplished."  With 
touching  resemblance  to  our  impatience  at  the  pros- 
pect of  some  imminent  evil  which  we  can  foresee  but 
cannot  prevent,  He  hastened  to  Jerusalem,  as  it 
were,  more  speedily  to  anticipate  His  certain  doom. 
And  surely  it  is  not  unlawful  to  suppose  that  He 
who  was  perfect  man  as  well  as  perfect  God,  felt  the 
longing  that  we  often  feel,  to  realize  and  terminate 
the  expected  suffering,  since  it  was  inevitable — to 
abridge  the  interval  of  terrible  waiting  and  suspense, 
and  obtain  a  dreadful  relief  from  more  dreadful  an- 
ticipation by  plunging  at  once  into  the  worst  of  the 
reality.     Like  an  alpine  region,  where  the  only  seen- 


LAZARUS.  283 

ery  is  one  great  mountain  range  and  its  shadows  ;  so 
His  whole  life  was  one  unutterable  sorrow  and  its 
gloomy  anticipations,  one  long  weary  walk  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death.  The  prevision  of  the 
darker  sufferings  in  store  for  Him,  was  ever  harder  to 
bear  than  the  anguish  of  His  present  sufferings  ;  and 
He  needed  ever  and  anon  to  brace  Himself  up  by 
calling  to  mind  the  object  of  His  suffering,  and  the 
joy  set  before  Him.  "  Father,  save  me  from  this 
hour :  but  for  this  cause  came  I  unto  this  hour." 

And  surely  this  anguish  which  Jesus  suffered 
through  the  knowledge  and  anticipation  of  the  fu- 
ture—  an  anguish  which  was  mostly  inward,  but  oc- 
casionally burst  the  bonds  of  reserve  and  became 
visible  though  inexplicable  to  others  —  suggests  to 
us  irresistibly  the  greatness  of  the  love  which  He 
bore  to  the  souls  of  nien,  the  fixity  of  His  determi- 
nation to  do  the  will  of  His  Father  in  the  salvation 
of  mankind.  It  must  have  been  an  infinite  love  in- 
deed which  such  stormy  waters  could  not  quench, 
which  such  overwhelming  floods  could  not  drown  ; 
it  must  have  been  a  Divine  will  indeed  which  sorrows 
from  hell,  earth,  and  heaven,  the  endurance  and  the 
prospect  of  them,  could  not  turn  aside  by  a  hair- 
breadth from  its  invincible  purpose  of  mercy.  And 
surely  it  is  a  precious  thought,  that  because  His 
whole  path  of  life  v/as  darkened  by  the  shadow  cast 
before  it  of  atoninor  death.  He  has,  in  bearing  this 


284  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

peculiar  form  of  suffering,  delivered  us  who  other- 
wise all  our  lifetime  would  be  subject  to  bondage 
through  fear  of  death.  From  the  wretchedness  of  a 
life  continually  saddened  and  embittered  by  the  fear 
of  death,  Christ  has  freed  us  by  bearing  it  Himself, 
by  becoming  our  substitute  in  this  as  in  all  other 
things.  To  those  who  have  no  interest  in  Christ, 
death  must  of  necessity  be  "  the  king  of  terrors  ;  " 
for  there  is  nothing  in  their  case  to  mitigate  its  evils 
and  relieve  its  gloom.  And  the  wonder  is  that  they 
walk  so  carelessly  through  life  with  such  a  sword  of 
Damocles  hanging  over  them.  But  those  who  are 
united  to  Jesus  in  the  bonds  of  the  everlasting  cov- 
enant should  have  no  cause  for  dread  at  the  prospect 
of  dissolution.  It  is  natural,  no  doubt,  that  the 
thought  of  the  mysterious  change  awaiting  them 
should  occasionally  cast  a  gloom  and  a  heaviness 
over  their  minds  ;  that  they  should  shrink  at  times 
with  nature's  weakness  from  the  suffering,  the  loss, 
the  destruction  of  beauty  and  happiness  that  ac- 
company it.  But  ever  to  look  forward  to  it  with 
terror,  ever  to  live  under  its  darkening  and  blighting 
power,  this  in  their  case  would  be  inexcusable. 
Those  to  whom  Christ  said  by  representation  amid 
the  tombs  of  Bethany,  *'  He  that  liveth  and  believeth 
in  me  shall  never  die,"  stand  in  a  very  different  posi- 
tion from  those  who  have  no  hope,  and  ought  there- 
fore to  rise  above  the  fears  and  forebodings  of  nat- 


LAZARUS.  285 

ure.  The  death  which  Jesus  dreaded,  and  which 
drew  from  Him  the  inward  groan  at  Lazarus'  tomb, 
they  have  no  reason  whatever  to  dread.  Jesus  has 
taken  av/ay  its  sting,  blunted  it  in  the  wounds  of  the 
cross.  All  that  made  death  truly  terrible,  the  wrath 
of  God,  the  curse  of  sin,  has  been  endured  by  their 
Surety  and  Substitute.  And  now  nothing  remains 
behind  but  the  shadow  of  the  destroying  angel's 
wing,  that  quenches  the  light  of  life  only  for  a  mo- 
ment—  the  simple  act  of  yielding  up  the  breath, 
with  all  its  natural  sorrows  and  sufferings,  and  the 
transition  from  a  world  of  sin  and  toil  and  woe,  \.Q  a 
heaven  of  eternal  purity  and  happiness. 

Jesus  said,  ''  Take  ye  away  the  stone."  As  I  have 
said,  there  is  a  strange  commingling  of  strength  and 
helplessness,  ignorance  and  knowledge  in  all  our 
Saviour's  proceedings  on  this  occasion,  which  is  ex- 
ceedingly perplexing  to  many  minds  ;  and  yet,  when 
the  clew  is  obtained,  we  are  lost  in  wonder  at  the 
perfect  consistency  of  His  whole  method  of  pro- 
cedure. Commentators  say  that  in  one  instance  He 
manifests  His  Divine  power,  and  in  another  His 
human  weakness  ;  in  one  case  He  speaks  and  acts  as 
man,  in  another  case  as  God.  But  such  an  explana- 
tion is  altogether  unworthy  of  the  dignity  of  our 
Saviour's  character  and  the  glory  of  His  work.  It  is 
a  low  conception  which  would  represent  Him  as  now 
hiding  His  Divinity  behind  the  mask  of  the  features 


286  THREE   RAISIXGS  FROM  THE   DEAD. 

of  an  ordinary  man,  and  now  allowing  it  to  shine 
forth  in  all  its  naked  effulgence  ;  as  presenting  to  us, 
first,  the  Divine  side  of  His  life,  and  then  the  human, 
as  if  there  were  no  bond  of  union  between  them. 
Such  a  conception  is  a  virtual  giving  up  of  the  fact 
of  the  incarnation  itself,  which,  if  it  is  anything,  is 
the  absolute  unity  of  the  Divine  and  the  human  in 
one  person.  There  is  a  harmony  about  all  His  words 
and  actions,  011  this  great  occasion,  which  is  alto- 
gether missed  by  those  who  believe  in  a  Nestorian 
separation  between  the  Diviiie  and  the  human,  if  not 
in .  His  person,  at  least  in  His  words  and  actions. 
Christ  acted  uniformly  as  Gjd  and  man,  for  the 
Divine  nature  was  in  Him  not  only  co-existent  with 
His  human,  but  also  co-efficient  ;  and  His  human 
nature  is  the  only  medium  through  which  we  can  be- 
hold His  Divine.  And  therefore  there  is  a  profound 
purpose  and  significance  in  this  command  to  the 
spectators  to  roll  away  the  stone  from  the  entrance 
into  the  tomb.  It  is  a  typical  command,  disclosing 
to  us  things  higher  than  itself,  revealing  a  glimpse  of 
the  difference  between  the  new  creation  and  the  old. 
In  the  old  creation  God  accomplished  alone  and  un- 
aided the  mighty  work  of  summoning  the  world  into 
existence.  He  rested  when  His  work  was  finished 
in  a  sublime  solitude,  and  none  shared  His  rest.  The 
morning  stars  indeed  sang  together,  and  the  sons  of 
God   shouted  for  joy,  when  the  foundation  of   the 


LAZARUS.  287 

earth  was  laid  and  the  cope-stone  of  the  wonderful 
structure  was  brought  forth  ;  but  their  song  of  joy 
was  a  song  of  praise  on  account  of  a  victory  achieved 
by  another,  not  of  exuUation  over  a  triumph  achieved 
by  themselves.  They  gave  no  help,  and  therefore 
they  could  not  enter  into  the  rest,  the  joy  of  their 
Lord  ;  that  restful  joy  which  we  ourselves  experience 
when  our  dreams  are  realized  and  our  efforts  crowned 
with  success.  But  in  the  new  creation  man  is  a  fel- 
low-worker with  God ;  he  works  out  his  salvation 
with  fear  and  trembling,  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in 
him  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good  pleasure. 
And  in  seeking  the  salvation  of  others,  he  is  enabled 
in  some  measure  to  understand  what  Christ  did  and 
endured  for  himself ;  he  sympathizes  with  the  love 
and  pity  for  the  souls  of  men  which  induced  Christ 
to  lay  down  His  life,  and  would  willingly  imitate  this 
noble  self-sacrifice  and  devotion.  He  enters  into  the 
fellowship  of  Christ's  sufferings,  and  even  fills  up,  as 
the  apostle  says  of  himself,  "that  which  is  left  behind 
of  the  afflictions  of  Christ,  for  His  body's  sake,  the 
Church."  And  when  his  labor  of  love  is  successful, 
he  rises  into  communion  with  the  joy  that  is  in  the 
presence  of  the  angels  over  one  sinner  that  repentetli, 
which  fills  the  heart  of  God  Himself,  and  which  was 
set  before  Christ  as  the  reward  of  His  sirfferings. 
Not  by  the  Almighty  fiat  alone  is  the  new  creation 
established  upon  the  ruins  of  the  old,  but  also  by  the 


288  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE    DEAD. 

sweat  of  man's  brow  and  the  sweat  of  his  soul.  And 
in  the  end,  when  the  work  of  grace  is  all  finished, 
and  the  primeval  blessing  is  more  than  restored,  all 
who  have  helped  to  bring  about  the  glorious  consum- 
mation, by  their  tears,  or  their  toils,  shall  enter  into 
the  joy  of  their  Lord,  and  rest  with  Him  from  their 
labors,  and  their  works  shall  follow  them.  "  To  him 
that  overcometh,  will  I  give  to  sit  with  me  in  my 
throne,  even  as  I  also  overcame,  and  am  set  down 
with  my  Father  in  His  throne."  We  are  companions 
in  the  kingdom  and  patience  of  Jesus  Christ.  We 
are  crucified  with  Him  here,  and  we  reign  with  Him 
above.  The  sword  of  the  kingdom  on  earth  is  the 
sword  of  the  Lord  and  of  Gideon  ;  and  the  new  song 
of  heaven  is  the  song  of  Moses  and  the  Lamb. 

This  is  the  far-reaching  truth,  of  which  the  simple 
and  apparently  insignificant  words  of  Christ  to  the 
bystanders  beside  the  tomb  of  Lazarus  testify  — 
"  Take  ye  away  the  stone."  One  of  the  most  strik- 
ing characteristics  of  the  miracles  of  Jesus  is  the  fact 
that  they  all  fall  in,  by  a  natural  harmony,  with  that 
law  of  human  life  which  ordains  that  in  the  sweat  of 
his  face  man  shall  eat  bread  —  that  all  blessing  shall 
come  from  toil  and  pain.  These  miracles  were  not 
irregular  wonders,  but  Divine  aids  to  human  labor, 
Divine  developments  and  completions  of  human  be- 
ginnings. They  were  performed,  not  without  human 
means,  but    through    them.     In    them    man    helped 


LAZARUS.  289 

Christ  as  far  as  he  could  to  perform  them.  In  each 
of  them  man  had  his  part  to  do  ;  and  upon  this  hu- 
man basis  Christ  accomphshed  what  man  could  not 
do.  The  weakness  of  man  was  aided  and  supple- 
mented by  the  Almighty  power  of  God.  The  disci- 
ples toil  all  night  against  contrary  winds  and  waves, 
until  nature  is  fairly  exhausted,  and  Christ  comes 
in  the  fourth  watch  and  stills  the  storm,  and  brings 
the  boat  immediately  to  land.  The  servants  fill  the 
water-pots  and  draw  out  the  water,  and  Christ 
changes  the  v/ater  thus  drawn  into  wine.  Elijah 
stretches  himself  upon  the  dead  child  ;  he  warms 
the  cold  corpse  by  his  own  vitality  ;  this  is  all  that 
he  can  do  in  preparation  for  the  miracle  ;  and  what 
human  skill  and  love  cannot  do,  God  accomplishes, 
and  restores  the  dead  child  to  life.  The  spectators 
roll  away  the  stone  from  the  mouth  of  the  sepulchre ; 
that  is  as  far  as  human  devotion  and  power  can  go  in 
the  overcoming  of  death  :  — 

"  They  to  the  verge  have  followed  what  they  love, 
And  on  the  insuperable  threshold  stand, 
With  cherished  names  its  speechless  calm  reprove, 
And  stretch  in  the  abyss  their  ungrasped  hand." 

And  on  this  utmost  vantage-ground  of  human  effort 
Jesus  takes  His  stand,  and  raises  the  dead  Lazarus 
to  life. 

We  misunderstand  the  significance  of  the  words, 
"  Take  ye  away  the  stone,"  if  we  imagine  them  sim- 
19 


290  THREE  RAISIXGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

ply  to  be  a  request  made  by  Jesus  to  the  spectators 
to  do  what  they  could  easily  do  —  relegating  to  them 
a  duty  for  which  His  own  Divine  power  was  not  nec- 
essary, and  which  it  was  of  no  consequence  whether 
they  or  He  performed  it.  The  act  implied  far  more 
than  that.  The  rolling  away  of  the  stone  by  the  by- 
standers was  as  essential  a  part  of  the  miracle  as  the 
loud  voice  of  Jesus  that  broke  the  stillness  of  death. 
Without  the  one  the  other  could  not  have  been  ef- 
fectual. And  how  instructive,  in  this  light,  is  this 
feature  in  the  miracle,  which  we  are  apt  to  overlook 
as  a  mere  trifle  !  Does  it  not  emphatically  teach  us 
that,  "  in  both  temporal  and  spiritual  things,  we 
should  not  so  throw  ourselves  upon  the  providence 
or  grace  of  God  as  to  neglect  the  part  we  have  our- 
selves to  act .''  "  If  we  are  at  all  in  earnest,  we  can- 
not but  feel  that,  in  every  work  to  which  we  are 
called,  there  is  much  that  we  ourselves  have  to  do  ; 
and  until  we  act  our  own  part,  we  cannot  expect  that 
God  will  accomplish  and  bless  the  work.  "  Where- 
fore criest  thou  unto  me  .-^ "  said  God  to  ]\Ioses  at  the 
Red  Sea ;  "  speak  to  the  children  of  Israel  that  they 
go  forward."  Instead  of  standing  still  and  idly  cry- 
ing to  God  for  help,  they  had  something  to  do  them- 
selves. They  had  to  move  on  in  the  face  of  seeming 
impossibilities  ;  and  till  they  did  this  their  prayers 
and  cries  to  heaven  would  avail  them  nothing.  Their 
being  in  that  strait  at  all  was  God's  doing,  for  it  was 


LAZARUS.  291 

through  that  strait  that  the  path  lay  to  the  blessed 
freedom    and    enlargement   of    the   promised    land. 
Not,  therefore,  until  they  marched  forward  into  the 
very  midst   of   the   sea  was    the   mighty  miracle  of 
deliverance  wrought  out  for  them.     And  if  we,  too, 
when  we  come  to  a  crisis  in  our  life,  fold  our  hands 
in  despair,  or  wait  supinely  for  help,  or  cry  aloud  to 
God  in  idle  distress,  neglecting  the  way  of   escape 
which  lies   before  us,  we   shall  never  overcome  the 
difficulty,  or  rise  superior  to  the  trial.     It  would  be 
well  for  us  to  remember  at  all  times  that  God  works 
by   means,  and    that   our  own  efforts   are  the  very 
means  through  which  He  grants  to  us  an  answer  to 
our  prayers  ;  that  the  method  in  which  the  Divine 
influence  is  exerted  on   man  and   for  man  is  more 
dynamical  than  mechanical,  a  vivifying  and  animat- 
ing process,  heightening  and  deepening  and  widen- 
ing  the   natural   energies  and   capacities.     All    the 
interpositions  of  Divine  providence  in  our  daily  life, 
instead  of  dispensing  with  human  effort,  crown  that 
effort  with  a  blessing  which  it  could  not  itself  work 
out.     Help  yourself,  not,  as  it  has  been  well  said,  and 
God  shall  help  you  —  He  shall  meet  you  half-way  — 
but,  because  He  has  helped  you  and  is  helping  you, 
His  own  finished  work  is  the  fulcrum  upon  which 
your  work  rests,  and  the  lever  by  which  it  is  carried 
on.     Work  out   your  own    salvation,  because  He  is 
working  in  you  both  to  will  and  to  do  of  His  good 


292  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

pleasure.  There  is  no  condition  whatever  prescribed, 
but  your  working  is  a  proof  that  God  is  helping  you, 
and  is  a  carrying  out  of  the  aid  of  God. 

But  there  is  a  further  idea  still  implied  in  the  com- 
mand of  Christ  to  the  spectators  to  remove  the  stone 
from  the  grave.  That  action  was  a  trial  or  test  of 
their  faith.  Faith  must  prove  itself  by  correspond- 
ing work,  else  it  is  dead.  Faith  was  required  as  a 
prerequisite  of  all  those  who  were  the  subjects  or 
got  the  benefit  of  Christ's  miracles  —  "  Believest 
thou  that  I  can  do  this.''  "  —  and  the  reality  and  de- 
gree of  the  faith  had  to  be  shown  by  some  charac- 
teristic and  significant  outward  action.  It  was  re- 
quired of  the  servants  at  Cana  to  fill  the  water-pots 
with  water,  and  to  draw  out  and  bear  to  the  governor 
of  the  feast.  The  servants  might  have  objected  that 
this  was  a  foolish  procedure  ;  that  no  result  could 
possibly  follow  the  mere  transference  of  water  from 
one  vessel  to  another.  Their  compliance  with  the 
order  was  therefore  a  proof  of  their  confidence  that 
Jesus  would  not  set  them  upon  a  task  which  was  a 
mere  mockery  in  itself,  and  of  their  faith  that  some 
extraordinary  result  would  follow  from  such  an  ex- 
traordinary procedure.  The  disciples  were  com- 
manded to  give  the  multitude  to  eat  ;  and  they 
might  have  objected,  as  in  point  of  fact  they  did 
object,  to  distribute  the  five  loaves  and  few  small 
fishes  amopg  so  many  thousands  —  "  What  are  these 


LAZARUS.  293 

among  so  many  ?  "  It  might  seem  to  them  an  ab- 
surd and  childish  thing  to  attempt  to  feed  so  great  a 
, crowd  by  means  so  out  of  all  proportion  inadequate. 
And  yet  the  very  absurdity  of  the  procedure,  the 
disproportion  between  the  means  and  the  end,  was 
meant  to  be  the  trial  of  their  faith.  It  was  required 
of  the  bystanders  to  take  away  the  stone  from  Laz- 
arus' tomb.  This  might  seem  a  superfluous  and 
altogether  futile  proceeding,  and  Martha  interposed 
to  prevent  the  sacrilegious  exposure  of  the  dead  — 
to  save  Jesus  and  herself  and  friends  from  a  specta- 
cle which  she  supposed  could  not  fail  to  prove  trying 
and  revolting,  especially  as  it  was  now  too  late  to  do 
any  good  by  it  —  "  Lord,  by  this  time  he  stinketh, 
for  he  hath  been  dead  four  days."  And  yet  Jesus 
put  her  to  the  test  —  "  Said  I  not  unto  thee,  that  if 
thou  wouldest  believe  thou  shouldest  see  the  glory 
of  God."  Without  the  faith  of  the  sisters  and  the 
bystanders  He  could  not  perform  the  miracle.  He 
could  not,  we  are  told,  do  many  mighty  works  in 
Galilee,  on  one  occasion,  because  of  the  unbelief  of 
His  countrymen  ;  and  now  He  could  not  raise  the 
dead  Lazarus  to  life  without  some  measure  of  faith 
in  His  resurrection-power,  on  the  part  of  the  living 
friends.  For  faith  makes  in  the  soul  of  man  the 
crooked  places  straight  and  the  rough  places  smooth, 
and  thus  prepares  the  way  of  the  Lord  for  His  won- 
der-working.    It  is  the  "  miracle  vv^ithin  "  which  over- 


294  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

comes  all  the  obstacles  in  the  soul  itself,  and  thus 
leads  to  the  performance  of  the  miracle  without 
which  overcomes  all  the  obstacles  in  nature,  and 
renders  all  things  possible  to  him  that  beheveth. 
And  the  outward  proof  of  that  faith  was  the  rolling 
away  of  the  stone  from  the  sepulchre. 

It  will  be  observed,  in  all  the  miracles  I  have 
specified,  that  the  chief  difficulty  of  faith  lay  in  the 
employment  of  human  means  —  in  the  employment 
of  the  help  of  man.  Had  these  been  discarded,  the 
miracles  would  have  been  simpler  and  easier  of  com- 
prehension. Had  the  miracles  been  wrought  im- 
mediately by  Christ,  without  any  human  intervention, 
"  they  would  have  been  considered  as  mere  acts  of 
the  sovereign  will  of  God  ;  and  in  that  case  all  reason- 
ing would  have  been  suspended,  and  the  mind  would 
at  once  have  reposed  upon  the  boundless  resources 
of  Almighty  power ;  all  things  would  have  been 
deemed  possible  with  God.  But  when  second  causes 
and  human  instruments  were  employed,  then  it  was 
fully  level  to  the  capacities  of  those  concerned  to  see 
that  these  were  unsuitable  and  incompetent  to  pro- 
duce the  results  proposed."  Had  Christ  engaged  to 
raise  Lazarus  from  the  dead  as  the  direct  effect  of 
His  own  omnipotence,  of  the  power  of  God  working 
in  and  by  Him,  then  a  simple  reliance  upon  the  truth 
and  ability  of  Him  who  promised  would  have  silenced 
every  doubt.     Martha  would  in  all  probabiUty  have 


LAZARUS.  295 

believed  that  He  could  do  this,  for  did  she  not  say, 
"  But  I  know  that  even  now  whatsoever  thou  wilt 
ask  of  God,  God  will  give  it  thee."  But  when  He 
took  the  roundabout  way  of  employing  human  help, 
and  asking  the  friends  around  the  tomb  to  remove 
the  stone,  He  brought  in  a  questionable  element,  and 
interposed  means  altogether  inadequate  to  produce 
such  a  result.  Undoubtedly  a  far  more  submissive 
obedience  of  faith  was  called  for  by  the  circumstance 
that  Jesus  was  guided  to  the  tomb  by  the  Jews,  and 
that  He  ordered  them  to  remove  the  stone  from  be- 
fore it,  than  if  He  had  simply  and  at  once  com- 
manded Lazarus  in  the  name  of  God  to  rise  from  the 
dead. 

And  as  with  the  miracles  of  Jesus,  so  with  all  God's 
dealings  with  us  still.  The  difficulty  of  faith  always 
lies  in  the  employment  of  means  that  seem  dispro- 
portionate to  the  ends.  It  is  part  and  parcel  of  the 
whole  system  of  the  Christian  religion.  It  apper- 
tained to  the  Founder  of  it  Himself,  who  gave  of- 
fence to  His  countrymen  because  of  the  incongruity 
between  the  greatness  of  His  pretensions  and  the 
humbleness  of  His  origin,  between  the  mighty 
powers  which  He  possessed  and  the  weakness  and 
ordinary  appearance  of  His  person  and  associations 
—  "  Is  not  this  the  carpenter,  the  son  of  Joseph  and 
Mary  t  "  If  God  should  make  bare  His  arm  and  ac- 
complish some  great  wonder  immediately,  we  should 


296  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

have  no  difficulty  in  admitting  the  fact  and  believing 
in  the  result,  for  we  know  that  God  can  do  any- 
thing ;  but  if  He  employs  some  roundabout  agency 
of  ordinary  laws  and  common  operations,  we  stumble 
at  these  instrumentalities,  and  refuse  to  recognize 
the  Divine  Hand  in  the  result  at  all.  If  He  an- 
swered our  prayer  directly  from  heaven,  we  should 
be  less  perplexed  than  when  He  answers  us,  as  it  is, 
by  the  ordinary  experiences  of  human  life.  The 
great  stumbling-block  which  modern  science,  is  put- 
ting in  the  way  of  religious  faith  is  its  doctrine  of 
uniformitarianism,  which  is  proving"  to  us  more  and 
more  that  God  works  by  natural  ordinary  means,  and 
according  to  a  uniform  consistent  method.  But  it  is 
necessary  that  these  secondary  causes  and  instru- 
ments should  be  interposed,  in  order  to  try  our  faith 
and  test  our  spiritual  discernment  ;  to  see .  if  we  can 
look  beyond  the  natural  to  the  supernatural,  and 
trace  the  finger  of  God  even  in  the  ordinary  events 
which  befall  us,  and  in  the  weak  and  foolish  things 
of  life  by  which  He  works  His  gracious  will. 

The  saying,  "  Lord,  by  this  time  he  stinketh,  for 
he  hath  been  dead  four  days,"  is  very  appropriately 
put  into  the  mouth  of  Martha.  It  is  characteristic 
of  her  outspokeness  and  officiousness.  Dr.  Plumptre 
has  said  that  we  judge  wrongly  of  her,  if  we  see  in 
her  words  the  utterance  of  an  impatient  or  despond- 
ing unbelief  ;  that  they  show,  on  the  contrary,  how 


LAZARUS.  ■        297 

deeply  she  had  penetrated  into  the  meaning  of 
Christ's  words  about  "  resurrection  and  Ufe  ; "  that 
^he  was  so  comforted  by  the  thought  of  the  true 
spiritual  victory  over  death,  to  which  Christ  referred, 
that  she  no  longer  expected  that  the  power  of  the 
eternal  life  would  show  itself  in  the  renewal  of  the 
earthly.  But  we  can  hardly  give  her  credit  for  so 
great  a  stretch  of  advancement  in  the  Divine  life  at 
this  stage.  She,  no  doubt,  declared  her  belief  in 
Jesus  as  the  Son  of  God  who  should  come  into  the 
world  ;  but  the  value  of  that  confession  of  faith  is 
somewhat  qualified,  when  we  reflect  that  all  her 
questions  and  answers  to  Jesus  show  a  readiness 
and  unembarrassed  vigor,  which  we  do  not  usually 
find  associated  with  a  profound  intelligence  and  a 
thoughtful,  spiritual  disposition.  We  are  shut  up  to 
the  conclusion  indeed  that,  like  Thomas,  despond- 
ency had  assufned  the  predominance  in  her  soul 
over  the  hope  that  had  been  partially  aroused. 
Though  she  had  heard  from  Jesus'  lips  the  wondrous 
words,  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the  life,"  yet  she 
believed  not  that  there  could  be  a  remedy  for  one 
who  had  already  seen  corruption.  Jesus  might  have 
prevented  death,  or  raised  to  life  when  life  had  just 
fled ;  but  the  decomposition  of  the  grave  would  defy 
even  His  power.  It  was  a  moment  of  Unbelief,  when 
the  bright  blue  space  of  heaven  cleared  in  her  soul, 
was  again  covered  over  with  dark  drifting  clouds  of 


298  THREE  RAISINGS   FROM  THE   DEAD. 

doubt  and  fear.  And  her  words  are  the  saddest  of 
all  human  words,  as  disclosing  the  humiliating  and 
shameful  process  through  which  the  beautiful  and 
beloved  form  is  taken  down  in  the  kindly  darkness 
and  secrecy  of  its  mother  earth  —  in  order  to  be 
made  up  again  in  honor  and  glory,  eternal  in  the 
heavens. 

We  are  not,  however,  to  take  the  words  of  Martha 
as  descriptive  of  a  real  fact,  but  as  expressive  of  her 
own  conjecture,  drawn  from  the  natural  order  of 
things,  and  the  length  of  time  that  her  brother  had 
lain  in  the  grave.  There  is  nothing  in  the  narrative 
to  lead  us  to  take  for  granted  that  corruption  had 
taken  place  in  the  dead  body ;  and  although  decom- 
position goes  on  in  a  hot  country  with  great  rapidity, 
necessitating  almost  immediate  burial,  yet  we  must 
not  overlook  the  retarding  effect  of  the  low  tempera- 
ture of  the  cave  in  which  Lazarus  was  interred,  which 
was  doubtless  very  much  cooler  and  drier  than  the 
air  outside.  We  have  also  incidental  proof  that  the 
death  of  Lazarus  must  have  taken  place  in  winter,  in 
the  month  of  December,  when  the  climate,  of  course, 
is  much  colder  ;  and  the  great  elevation  of  Bethany 
above  the  level  of  the  sea  must  have  further  refriger- 
ated the  air.  A  body  in  such  a  place  of  sepulture,  at 
such  an  elevation,  and  in  such  a  season,  might  well 
have  remained  unchanged  for  even  a  longer  period 
than  four  days.     Indeed  the  nature  of  the  miracle,  as 


LAZARUS.  299 

Trench  has  well  pointed  out,  requires  that  we  should 
come  to  such  conclusion ;  for  it  would  be  giving  it 
a  monstrous  character,  altogether  foreign  to  that 
which  belongs  to  all  the  other  miracles  of  Christ,  to 
suppose  that  He  resuscitated  the  already  decomposed 
body  of  Lazarus.  It  would  involve  a  designed  aug- 
mentation of  the  miracle  which  the  expositor  must 
guard  against  ;  for  Jesus,  as  I  have  already  said,  in- 
variably duninished,  instead  of  exaggerated,  His 
works.  It  is  far  simpler  to  suppose,  with  Olshausen, 
that  by  natural  means  —  which,  as  we  have  seen,  were 
quite  sufficient,  and  cases  frequently  occur  in  which 
decomposition  does  not  commence  until  very  late  — 
the  body  of  Lazarus,  just  because  it  was  to  be  rean- 
imated, was,  according  to  the  providence  of  God,  pre- 
served from  corruption.  And  we  must  regard  it  as  a 
part  of  the  same  providential  care  that  the  body  was 
not  embalmed,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  richer 
Jews,  although  the  sisters  had  spikenard,  at  least,  in 
the  house. 

We  must  not  overlook  the  touching  allusion  to 
Martha  as  "the  sister  of  him  that  was  dead,"  although 
it  was  not  necessary  for  the  sake  of  distinction  so  to 
name  her.  When  the  Shunammite  urged  her  suit 
before  Elisha,  for  the  restoration  of  her  greatest 
earthly  treasure,  with  a  beautiful  propriety  she  is 
spoken  of  as  "the  mother  of  the  child."  Here,  too, 
with   equally   beautiful   propriety,   Martha  is  called 


300  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

"  the  sister  of  him  that  was  dead."  Who  of  all  the 
crowd  around  but  the  loving  sister  of  the  dead  would 
be  afraid  that,  at  the  sight  of  what  the  tomb  might 
disclose,  the  image  of  him  which  she  carried  in  her 
heart  might  be  ruined  ?  Who  would  shrink  like  her 
from  making  the  beloved  form  a  spectacle  of  horror 
to  strangers,  seeing  that  she  herself,  who  cherished 
it  most,  was  fain  to  bury  it  out  of  sight?  Who 
but  a  sister  would  keep  Jesus  from  looking  once  more 
on  the  countenance  of  the  beloved  ;  for  she  inter- 
preted His  command  to  remove  the  stone  as  nothing 
more  than  the  first  step  towards  the  gratification  of 
such  a  desire  ? 

But,  although  Martha  had  let  go  for  a  moment  her 
faith  in  the  "  Resurrection  and  the  Life,"  and  drifted 
back  into  the  hopelessness  of  death,  Jesus  had  not 
let  go  His  hold  of  her.  In  the  alternate  ebb  and  flow 
of  her  faith,  His  everlasting  arms  were  underneath 
her.  He  checked  her  unbelief,  but  it  was  with  won- 
derful tenderness  and  gentleness.  "  Did  I  not  tell 
thee,  that  if  thou  wouldest  only  believe,  thou  should- 
est  see  the  glory  of  God."  He  brought  to  her  recol- 
lection the  words  which  He  addressed  to  the  mes- 
senger sent  to  Him  beyond  Jordan,  in  the  crisis  of 
her  brother's  fever  —  "This  sickness  is  not  unto 
death,  but  for  the  glory  of  God,  that  the  Son  of  God 
might  be  glorified  thereby."  He  reminded  her  of 
His  conversation  with  her  when  she  met  Him  on  His 


LAZARUS.  301 


return,  regarding  the  power  of  faith  to  appropriate 
the  plenitude  of  the  blessings  that  dwelt  in  Himself. 
He  bore  with  meekness   her  expression  of  hopeless- 
ness, as  He  bore  with  her  upbraiding  when  she  could 
not  understand  why  He  had  not  come  at  once  to  her 
help.     He  who  wept  with  her,  pitied  her  weakness 
and  ignorance,  and  condescended  to  them  with  all  the 
sympathy  and  help  which  they  required.     He  would 
not  break  the  bruised  reed,  nor  quench  the  smoking 
flax  until  He  had  sent  forth  judgment  unto  victory. 
He  would  come  down  like  rain  upon  the  mown  grass 
upon  her  broken  hopes  and  blighted  affections,  and 
help  her  to  grow  again,  from  the  relics  of  her  happi- 
ness, a  fruitful  faith  and  an  unshaken  trust.     Some 
natures  —  and  Martha's  was  one  of  them  —  can  only 
come  to  rest  through  trouble,  to  Ught  through  shad- 
ows, to  faith  through  doubt.     If  she  could  only  be- 
lieve   if  she  had  faith  even  as  a  grain  of  mustard- 
seed  —  mountains    of   difficulty  would   be   removed 
before   her,   and    seeming    impossibilities   converted 
into  accomphshed  facts.     She  could  stretch  a  hand 
through  death  and  grasp  the  blessed  reality  beyond  ; 
and  the  portal  of  the  tomb  would  be  to  her  but  the 
gate  of  heaven.     If  thou  wouldest  only  believe  —  if 
thou  hadest,  as  some  one  has  remarked,  but  even  a 
bare  root  of  faith,  stripped  of  its  foliage,  striking  down 
into  thy  soul  with  a  firm  grasp  in    the  winter  and 
the  darkness— then  the  absent  bloom  and  fruit  would 


302  THREE   RAISINGS   FROM  THE   DEAD 

soon  appear,  and  the  summer  of  full  unfolding  and 
the  morning  of  bright  disclosure  would  soon  come. 
Thou  shouldest  see  through  the  gloom  the  glory,  and 
through  the  death  the  life.  And  as  He  dealt  with 
Martha  in  her  faithlessness  and  weakness,  so  He 
deals  with  us.  He  is  no  austere  man,  reaping  where 
he  had  not  sowed,  and  gathering  where  he  had  not 
strawed.  He  condescends  to  our  infirmities  ;  He 
checks  our  unbelief  with  tenderness  and  pity,  know- 
ing the  shortness  of  our  vision  and  the  frailty  of  our 
frame.  He  bears  with  unwearied  patience  and  gen- 
tleness all  our  questionings  and  petulances,  all  our 
doubts  and  fears.  He  brings  to  our  remembrance, 
for  our  comfort  and  encouragement,  all  that  He  said 
and  did  to  us  in  the  years  of  the  right  hand  of  the 
Most  High.  If  we  could  only  beheve  in  Him,  and 
take  Him  simply  and  confidingly  at  His  word,  we 
should  be  saved  from  all  our  fears  and  troubles  ;  the 
difficulties  of  life  would  vanish  before  us  ;  we  should 
find  the  way  to  good  through  evil  ;  and  life,  which  is 
the  heir  of  death,  would  become  its  conqueror,  smil- 
ing at  its  impotence  and  making  the  grave  its  cradle. 
Faith  is  the  all-conquering  principle.  It  is  by  the 
exercise  of  faith  that  we  carry  on  the  business  of 
life  ;  and,  glorified  by  being  associated  with  Divine 
and  eternal  things,  it  is  the  victory  that  overcomes 
the  world.  And  in  the  end,  however  painful  the 
trial  and  long-deferred  the  result,  the  grandest  tri- 


LAZARUS.  303 

umph  and  the  greatest  glory  fall  to  those  who  have 
the  greatest  faith. 

'  The  weeping  and  groaning,  by  which  even  rhe 
Saviour's  own  heart  had  been  wrung,  is  hushed.  The 
spiritual  obstacle  of  Martha's  unbeUef  is  removed; 
the  physical  obstacle  of  the  stone  is  rolled  away  from 
the  mouth  of  the  sepulchre  by  human  hands,  and  the 
yawning  gloom  within  revealed  in  all  its  suggestive 
dreadfulness.  And  now  nothing  stands  between  the 
living  and  the  dead.  Man  has  done  all  that  he  could 
towards  the  remedying  of  death  ;  he  has  opened  the 
door  of  the  tomb,  taken  away  every  spiritual  inter- 
vention in  himself  and  every  physical  intervention  in 
surrounding  circumstances,  and  thus  prepared  the 
way  of  the  Lord.  And  now  the  Lord  of  life  inter- 
feres to  do  what  man  cannot  do  —  to  restore  the  dead 
to  life.  His  disciples,  the  sisters,  and  the  Jews  who 
had  come  to  comfort  them,  are  pressing  behind  Him, 
a  solemn  and  awe-struck  group.  The  huge  cathedral 
of  St.  Paul's  in  London  is  used  by  the  peasants  of 
Dorking  as  a  weather  glass,  for  it  is  never  seen  from 
that  distance  except  in  the  clear  light  that  precedes  a 
shower  of  rain.  And  so  a  spectator,  beholding  afar- 
off  this  group  of  persons  around  a  tomb,  would  have 
supposed  that  they  had  simply  come  to  repair  the 
grave,  or  to  pay  some  necessary  tribute  of  affection 
to  the  dead.  The  sublimest  event  that  ever  took 
place  in  the  history  of   the  world  up  to  that   time, 


304  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

would  have  been  dwarfed  at  a  little  distance  to  a 
mere  customary  visit  to  a  tomb.  For  a  moment  the 
group  of  friends  stand  silent  and  waiting.  Then, 
with  holy  face  uplifted  from  the  dark  receptacle  of 
death  before  Him  to  the  bright  blue  living  heavens 
above,  and  lit  by  the  sunshine  which  he  Himself  had 
made,  Jesus  addresses  His  thanksgiving  prayer  to 
His  Father  in  a  voice  audible  to  the  whole  assem- 
blage. He  does  not  ask  that  His  desire  may  be 
granted,  but  He  gives  thanks  that  it  is  granted 
*'  Father,  I  thank  thee  that  thou  hast  heard  me  ;  and 
I  know  that  thou  hearest  me  always  ;  but  because  of 
the  people  that  stand  by  I  said  it,  that  they  may  be- 
lieve that  thou  hast  sent  me."  We  are  not  to  sup- 
pose that  the  reference  here  is  to  any  special  prayer 
which  Jesus  uttered  aloud  on  a  previous  occasion. 
Jesus  conceived  in  His  own  spirit  at  the  moment  a 
wish  to  raise  Lazarus  from  the  dead  ;  and,  in  the 
formation  of  that  wish,  He  regarded  the  work  as  al- 
ready accomplished  by  His  Father.  He  did  not  pray 
in  the  sense  in  which  we  pray  ;  He  did  not  ask  as 
we  ask  ;  for,  being  always  in  the  bosom  of  the 
Father,  even  on  earth,  there  was  a  constant  uninter- 
rupted communication  of  power  and  blessing  from 
the  one  to  the  other,  so  that  what  He  saw  the  Father 
do  He  was  able  to  do  also.  And  when  He  thanks 
God  that  He  had  heard  His  prayer,  this  cannot  imply 
that  there  was  a  possibility  of  His  prayer  not  being 


LAZARUS.  305 

heard  and  granted.  The  prayer  of  Christ  and  the 
answer  of  God  were  inseparable  ;  they  were  one  and 
the  same,  for  He  Himself  says,  "  I  and  the  Father 
are  one."  He  did  not  require  to  ask  for  special 
power  to  work  this  miracle  ;  He  was  able  to  raise 
Lazarus  from  the  grave  by  the  continuous  uninter- 
rupted power  which  He  possessed  as  dwelling  in  God 
and  God  in  Him. 

It  has  been  considered  strange  that  Jesus  uttered 
this  declaration  in  the  presence  of  the  assembly. 
Strauss  cavils  at  it  as  usual,  and  looks  upon  it  as  a 
piece  of  affectation,  as  meant  merely  for  show.  But 
surely  it  was  necessary  that  the  deed  which  He  was 
about  to  do  should  be  cleared  from  all  ambiguities 
and  false  suppositions,  and  be  unmistakably  con- 
nected with  heaven  —  that  the  people  should  know 
that  Jesus  claimed  His  power  from  above.  Jesus  ex- 
plained on  a  subsequent  occasion,  when  an  audible 
voice  came  from  heaven  in  answer  to  His  Father 
—  "Father,  glorify  thy  name,"  "  I  have  both  glorified 
it  and  will  glorify  it  again  "  —  that  the  voice  came 
not  because  of  Him,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  multi- 
tude. He  needed  not  this  voice  of  God  for  the  con- 
firmation of  His  own  faith,  as  a  testimony  to  His 
Divine  rank  ;  it  was  entirely  for  the  benefit  of  the 
bystanders.  And  so  Jesus  uttered  His  thanksgiving 
prayer  in  the  hearing  of  the  people  around  Him  on 
this  occasion,  not  for  His  own  sake,  but  that  they 


306  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

might  know  the  intimate  and  inseparable  communion 
between  the  Father  and  the  Son.  And  although 
Jesus  did  not  obtain  His  power  to  call  Lazarus  from 
the  grave  by  means  of  prayer,  still,  by  connecting  the 
miracle  with  prayer  to  God,  He  gives  to  us  the 
highest  possible  testimony  to  the  importance  and 
efficacy  of  prayer.  He  who  has  learned  that  lesson 
from  Him  who  alone  can  teach  it,  through  whom 
alone  can  prayer  be  offered,  and  who  Himself  lived  a 
life  of  prayer,  has  laid  his  hand  on  that  "  golden  key 
which  opens  the  palace  of  eternity." 

Although  Jesus  wrought  as  the  equal  of  God  in 
the  wonderful  work,  we  have,  nevertheless,  a  won- 
derful blending  in  it  of  subjection  and  authority,  of 
obedience  and  command,  of  the  lowly  servant  and 
the  great  "  I  am."  He  who  cried  with  a  voice  of 
almighty  power,  "  Lazarus,  come  forth,"  audibly  ex- 
pressed His  dependence  upon  God.  Li  the  highest 
displays  of  His  Divine  power,  Jesus  humbled  Him- 
self and  became  obedient  ;  He  was  made  under  the 
law  of  God  ;  He  manifested  Himself  as  the  perfect 
Son,  living  in  dependence  upon  the  Father.  And  it 
is  because  of  this  that  we  have  such  contrasts  and 
apparent  contradictions,  otherwise  so  inexplicable, 
between  the  lowly  self-sacrificing  nature  of  Jesus, 
and  the  wonderful  claims  He  puts  forth  for  Himself. 
The  thanksgiving  prayer  of  Jesus  before  raising  Laz- 
arus  is    of   a   piece   with    the   thanksgiving   prayer 


LAZARUS.  307 

which  He  uttered  before  the  miracle  of  the  loaves 
and  fishes.  In  both  cases  He  did  not  wish  the  spec- 
tators to  suppose  that  He  was  making  an  arbitrary- 
use  of  His  supernatural  power  ;  on  the  contrary,  He 
wished  them  to  know  that  He  was  acting,  under 
the  Father,  in  obedience  to  laws  which  regulated  the 
common  affairs  of  human  life.  The  raising  of  Laz- 
arus was  no  more  an  irregular  wonder  than  the  feed- 
ing of  the  multitude.  Both  fell  in  by  a  natural  har- 
mony with  the  ordinary  ways  of  Divine  dealing  ;  and 
therefore  they  bear  a  gracious  and  useful  testimony 
to  what  Jesus  was,  and  what  He  came  to  declare  and 
do.  Both  miracles  were  wrought  under  solemn  and 
orderly  arrangements.  Jesus  prays,  and  becomes 
subject  to  law,  in  order  that  He  may  act  as  God,  and 
manifest  His  divine  power  by  a  miracle.  He  stoops 
to  conquer  ;  He  serves  that  He  may  rule  ;  He  obeys 
that  He  may  triumph.  And  when  v/e  see  in  His 
mightiest  acts  this  wonderful  commingling  of  human 
dependence  and  Divine  independence  —  this  unity 
with  the  Father,  and  this  association  with  ourselves 
—  we  are  filled  with  a  joyful  feeling,  for  we  realize 
"that  mystery  where  God-in-man  is  one  with  man- 
in-God."  The  Son  of  God  and  Son  of  Man  —  one 
with  the  Father  in  heaven,  one  with  man  upon  the 
earth  —  proves  Himself  to  be  the  true  Mediator  — 
the  living  bond  between  heaven  and  earth  —  linking 
our  weakness  with  the  Almighty  power,  and  our  mor- 
tality with  His  eternal  life. 


308  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

Some  of  the  early  Fathers  of  the  church  supposed 
that  the  thanksgiving  prayer  of  Jesus  records  the  act- 
ual accomplishment  of  the  miracle ;  that  the  moment 
of  awakening  was  earlier  ;  and  that  the  loud  call  ad- 
dressed to  the  dead  only  effected  the  coming  forth 
of  him  who  had  already  been  restored  to  life.  But 
this  explanation  would  rob  the  act  of  Jesus  of  its 
profound  meaning.  The  loud  voice  was  not  a  mere 
accessary  or  subordinate  feature  in  the  miracle  ;  it 
was  a  primary  essential  element.  It  was  by  the 
quickening  power  of  that  loud  voice  that  life  returned 
to  the  corpse.  Jesus  acted  here  in  perfect  harmony 
with  the  Divine  order,  which  ever  attributes  to  the 
voice  of  the  Son  of  God  the  power  of  quickening  the 
dead  and  raising  them  from  their  graves.  Thus  St. 
John  says,  ''The  hour  is  coming,  in  the  which  all 
that  are  in  the  graves  shall  hear  His  voice,  and  shall 
come  forth."  And  the  loudness  of  the  voice  on  this 
occasion  is  equally  significant.  It  was  not  by  a  mere 
internal  prayer,  by  the  mere  formation  and  expres- 
sion of  a  wish,  by  any  exercise  of  arbitrary  will,  that 
the  mighty  miracle  was  accomplished ;  it  was  by 
strenuous  personal  effort,  by  strong  crying  and  tears. 
It  was  not  necessary  for  Christ  to  summon  the 
tenant  of  the  tomb  by  such  an  exertion,  so  far  as  His 
Divine  power  was  concerned.  As  God,  a  whisper,  a 
breath,  the  slightest  expression  of  His  will,  would 
have  sufficed  to  break  the  bands  of  death.     But,  in 


LAZARUS.  309 

relation  to  His  redemptive  work,  the  loud  voice  is 
full  of  precious  meaning.  As  the  Saviour  of  a  world 
lying  under  the  curse,  He  could  not  raise  the  dead  to 
life  by  a  mere  voUtion  costing  Him  nothing.  He 
had  to  expend  strength  and  toil  and  sorrow  propor- 
tioned to  the  difficulty  and  magnitude  of  the  work. 
When  He  raised  the  daughter  of  Jairus,  who  was 
newly  dead,  in  whose  corpse  the  flickerings  of  life,  as 
it  were,  still  lingered,  just  as  lingers  the  last  little 
flame  around  a  brand  taken  out  of  a  fire,  hovering  in 
the  air  a  moment,  retreating  and  then  returning  to 
the  wood,  before  it  goes  out  finally  —  He  said,  in  a 
low,  gentle  voice,  "  Maid,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise." 
Less  exertion  was  needed  in  this  case  to  recall  the 
spirit,  for  she  was  but  barely  in  the  grasp  of  the 
enemy.  When  He  raised  the  widow  of  Nain's  son, 
He  pitched  His  voice  in  a  higher  key,  "  Young  man, 
I  say  unto  thee,  arise"  —  for  the  body  was  longer 
dead  ;  it  was  cold,  and  carried  out  to  the  tomb  ;  and 
therefore  more  strength  had  to  be  put  forth  to  rescue 
the  prey  from  the  mighty.  But  Lazarus  was  four 
days  in  the  grave,  was  completely  under  the  domin- 
ion of  the  destroyer  ;  and  therefore  it  was  needed 
that  Christ  should  cry  with  a  loud  voice,  "  Lazarus, 
come  forth." 

The  loud  voice  was  also  necessary  to  convince  the 
spectators  of  the  reality  of  the  Divine  agency  in  the 
miracle.      Without     that    voice    they    might     have 


310  THREE    RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

doubted  whether  Christ  had  anything  to  do  with  the 
marvelous  restoration.  His  presence  there,  and  the 
coming  forth  of  Lazarus  from  the  tomb,  might  have 
been  regarded  as  an  extraordinary  coincidence  ;  but 
their  relation  as  cause  and  effect  could  have  been 
shown  in  no  other  way  so  satisfactorily  as  by  calling 
on  the  dead  by  name  to  come  forth.  This  loud  voice 
points  back  to  the  Almighty  fiat,  "  Let  there  be  light, 
and  there  was  light,"  that  called  a  living  world  full  of 
order  and  beauty  out  of  a  chaos  of  death  and  dark- 
ness ;  and  it  points  forward  to  the  loud  voice  that 
will  call  the  dead  from  their  graves  on  the  last  day, 
and  accomplish  a  grander  work  in  the  resurrection 
than  in  the  original  creation.  The  miracle  of  Beth- 
any was  a  type  and  an  anticipation  of  the  general 
resurrection,  and  corresponds  to  it  in  all  its  features 
and  details.  By  the  loud  voice,  therefore,  at  the 
grave  of  Lazarus,  we  are  reminded  that  the  Lord 
Himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout, 
with  the  voice  of  an  archangel  and  the  trump  of  God, 
and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first.  The  ear,  the 
counterpart  of  the  voice,  is,  as  Dr.  George  Wilson 
has  well  said,  the  most  human  of  all  our  organs.  It 
is  by  it  that  we  hold  most  intimate  and  endearing 
communion  with  our  fellow-creatures,  and  most 
powerfully  impress  and  influence  each  other.  It  is 
ihe  sense  of  hearing  which  most  readily  and  most 
effectually  lends  itself  to  emotional  feeling  ;  and  that 


LAZARUS.  311 

which  reaches  through  the  ear  stirs  the  soul  more 
deeply  than  what  meets  our  eye.  It  is  to  the  ear 
that  the  summons  to  awake  to  spiritual  life  is  now 
addressed  ;  and  the  summons  hereafter  to  awake  to 
eternal  life  will  also  be  addressed  to  the  ear,  and  it 
shall  be  the  first  of  all  the  senses  to  awake  to  a  con- 
sciousness of  a  new  existence  beyond  the  grave. 
The  infant  enters  this  life  with  a  cry,  and  its  sorrow 
is  soothed  by  its  mother's  voice  ;  we  shall  enter  into 
the  life  to  come  with  the  sound  of  the  Redeemer's 
voice  in  our  ear,  comforting  us  as  one  whom  his 
mother  comforts,  and  hushing  to  everlasting  rest  all 
the  sorrows  of  earth.  Surely  the  honor  which  God 
has  put  upon  the  ear  of  man  above  all  the  other 
senses  should  invest  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  — 
the  Divinely-appointed  means  by  which  we  are  pre- 
pared for  time  and  eternity  —  in  this  the  day  of  our 
merciful  visitation,  with  greater  interest  and  impor- 
tance ;  should  impress  upon  our  minds  with  more 
emphasis  and  solemnity  the  great  moral  admonition 
contained  in  the  words,  "  He  that  hath  ears  to  hear, 
let  him  hear."  May  we  all  incline  our  ears  now  and 
hear  the  still  small  voice  of  Divine  love,  that  our 
souls  may  live ;  and  in  the  last  great  day  we  shall 
hear  the  loud  voice  of  the  Son  of  Man  saying, 
"  Awake  and  sing  ye  that  dwell  in  dust :  for  thy  dew 
is  as  the  dew  of  herbs,  and  the  earth  shall  cast  out 
the  dead,"  and  we  shall  join  in  the  new  song  of  praise 


312  iHKhE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

of  the  risen  saints,  more  wonderful  than  the  chorus 
of  creation,  when  "  the  morning  stars  sang  together 
and  the  sons  of  God  shouted  for  joy." 

He  whom  Jesus  addressed  in  the  loud  voice  was 
no  longer  living,  but  dead.  He  had  passed  out  of 
the  corporate  life  of  mankind  to  join  the  dead  system 
of  nature,  like  an  effete  worn-out  particle  that  is  elim- 
inated from  the  human  frame  when  it  has  served 
its  purpose,  and  goes  into  the  atmosphere  or  the 
earth  to  form  part  of  other  things.  And  yet  our 
Saviour's  words  show  to  us  that  it  is  not  so.  That 
dead  Lazarus  within  the  tomb  is  not  a  thing,  but  a 
person.  He  has  not  become  a  part  of  the  dead  inert 
universe  ;  he  is  still  in  the  communion  of  life,  in  the 
membership  of  the  human  race.  The  tie  that  binds 
him  to  the  family  of  mankind  is  not  broken.  He  is 
living  in  Christ,  in  Him  who  only  hath  life,  in  whom 
all  mankind  live  and  move  and  have  their  being,  who 
is  the  life  of  the  universe,  and  from  whose  life  our 
life  is  but  a  feeble  spark  which  would  go  out  if  sep- 
arated from  Him,  as  a  portion  of  a  flame  on  a  log 
would  go  out  if  separated  from  the  fire  that  kindled 
and  feeds  it.  In  Him  Lazarus  is  already  risen  from 
the  dead,  is  already  most  truly  alive ;  and  the  miracle 
which  He  works  is  but  the  mere  outward  proof  of 
this  great  truth.  Lazarus  is  raised  from  the  dead 
before  the  eyes  of  men  because  in  Christ  he  is  al- 
ready raised  from  the  dead.    His  life  can  be  restored, 


LAZARUS.  313 

because  in  Christ  it  is  hid.  Just  as  our  Saviour 
lifted  up  the  veil  in  the  miracles  of  Capernaum  and 
Cana,  to  show  to  us  who  it  is  that  is  constantly  mul- 
tiplying our  bread  in  the  harvest  field  and  constantly 
changing  water  into  wine  in  the  vineyard,  so  in  the 
miracle  of  Bethany  He  lifts  the  veil  from  death  to 
show  to  us  the  enduring  life  that  is  in  it  —  to  show 
to  us  that  nothing  can  break  the  communion  of 
saints  with  Christ  and  with  one  another  in  Him. 

And  how  much  of  precious  truth  is  involved  in  our 
Saviour  calling  Lazarus  by  the  name  he  bore  while 
living !  It  is  in  entire  harmony  with  the  intimate 
and  endearing  relationship  which  subsisted  between 
them,  that  Jesus  should  now  have  named  the  name 
of  His  friend.  The  subjects  of  the  other  two  mira- 
cles of  restoration,  the  daughter  of  Jairus  and  the 
widow  of  Nain's  son,  were  strangers  to  Him.  He 
had  no  associations  of  tenderness  connected  with 
them.  Perhaps  in  the  limitation  of  His  human  nat- 
ure He  did  not  know  their  names  ;  for  He  met  them 
on  the  occasion  of  the  miracle  for  the  first  time,  and 
no  inquiry,  so  far  as  we  know,  was  made  regarding 
their  name.  And  therefore  when  He  stands  by  the 
bedside  of  the  one  He  says,  "  Maid,  I  say  unto  thee, 
arise,"  and  by  the  bier  of  the  other  He  says,  "  Young 
man,  I  say  unto  thee,  arise."  He  does  not  call  them 
by  name  ;  He  works  the  miracle  in  an  impersonal 
way.     But  Lazarus  was  His  own  familiar  friend,  and 


314  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

therefore  He  calls  him  by  the  dear  old  household 
name  which  had  often  in  former  days  been  upon  His 
lips  and  in  His  mind ;  and  by  so  doing  He  teaches  us 
not  only  that  His  love  reaches  out  beyond  death,  but 
also  that  in  death  the  object  of  His  love  retains  the 
old  identity.  Lazarus  is  still  all  that  Lazarus  was  ; 
all  that  is  involved  in  the  name  of  Lazarus  belongs  to 
him  now,  though  lying  in  the  grave,  as  truly  and  fully 
as  when  he  lived.  Death  has  no  power  to  destroy  or 
alter  human  nature.  It  cannot  annihilate  a  single 
human  faculty  or  function.  It  can  obliterate  no 
memory  ;  it  can  weaken  no  affection  in  any  human 
being  whose  nature  Christ  has  taken.  All  that  is 
best  and  truest  survives  unimpaired  the  act  of  disso- 
lution. Jesus  at  the  tomb  of  His  friend  called  Laz- 
arus by  the  same  name  which  He  bore  in  life.  On 
the  throne  of  heaven  Jesus  called  one  whose  ashes 
had  been  scattered  to  the  winds,  and  whose  spirit 
was  in  the  intermediate  world,  "  Antipas,  my  faithful 
martyr."  The  names  which  God's  children  bear  on 
earth  are  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of  life ;  they 
are  engraved  upon  the  palms  of  God's  hands,  and 
shall  be  theirs  in  the  heavenly  home  forever.  And 
He  who  said  to  the  sorrowing  sisters,  "  Your  brother 
shall  rise  again,"  assures  us  that,  not  a  stranger  spirit, 
shall  rise  at  the  last  day,  but  our  own  brother,  with 
the  same  Hneaments,  the  same  affections,  yea  the 
same  endeared  name  as  of  old.     And  how  comfort- 


LAZARUS.  3  I  5 

ing  is  such  an  assurance  !  We  have  an  instinctive 
conviction  in  our  own  hearts  that  our  friends  who 
have  gone  from  us  still  retain  their  individuality,  and 
all  those  characteristics  of  their  nature  which  en- 
deared them  to  us  on  earth  ;  but  oh  !  how  precious  it 
is  to  be  expressly  told,  by  Him  who  is  the  Resurrec- 
tion and  the  Life,  and  who  called  the  dead  Lazarus 
by  the  famihar  name  which  he  bore  in  life,  that  our 
instinct  does  not  deceive  us. 

"  Love  's  too  precious  to  be  lost, 
A  little  grain  shall  not  be  spilt." 

But  from  whence  was  Lazarus  called  forth  ?  His 
body  was  in  the  tomb  ;  but  where  was  his  spirit,  his 
true  self  ?  Manifestly,  in  that  spiritual  world  of 
which  our  spirits  are  the  inhabitants  even  now,  and 
of  which  this  world  of  sense  and  sight  is  the  mere 
shadow — the  dial  showing  the  unseen  movements 
behind.  We  pass  out  of  the  vain  show  —  out  of  the 
appearances  in  the  midst  of  which  we  live  —  into  a 
world  of  realities,  just  as  we  descend  out  of  a  moor- 
land mist,  where  everything  is  vague  and  distorted 
and  colorless,  into  a  valley  whose  scenery  is  brightly 
illuminated,  and  all  whose  features  stand  out  prom- 
inently and  in  their  true  colors  in  the  sunshine. 
The  scales  fall  from  off  our  eyes,  and  the  mist  is 
lifted  up,  and  we  behold  the  invisible  things  of  God 
that  were  faintly  revealed  to  us  by  the  objects  amid 
which  our  earthly  life  was  spent.     We   behold  the 


3l6  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

brighter  scenes  of  which  those  on  earth  are  but  the 
draught  or  copy  ;  the  sea  of  glass,  the  river  of  Hfe, 
the  sun  that  shall  no  more  go  down,  the  trees  of  life 
whose  leaves  shall  never  fade,  and  that  yield  their 
fruit  every  month,  of  which  our  earthly  rivers,  and 
sun,  and  sea,  and  trees  are  as  the  reflection  of  a 
summer  landscape  in  the  smooth  mirror  of  a  lake, 
compared  with  the  real  objects.  Life,  like  a  veil,  con- 
ceals from  us  those  spiritual  realities,  just  as  daylight 
conceals  from  us  the  moon  and  stars.  But  death, 
like  darkness,  introduces  us  to  them.  We  are  sur- 
rounded by  the  stars  in  the  daytime,  but  we  see  them 
not.  The  very  light  of  the  sun  acts  as  a  veil  to  hide 
them  from  us.  But  when  the  shades  of  evening  fall, 
without  changing  our  standing  place,  we  see  ourselves 
in  the  midst  of  infinite  worlds  of  amazing  grandeur. 
So  the  great  realities  of  heaven  are  around  us  in  life, 
but  the  veil  of  our  earthly  tabernacle  conceals  them 
from  our  view.  But  when  the  darkness  of  death 
comes  down  upon  our  eyes,  —  when  the  veil  of  flesh 
is  rent,  —  then  indeed,  without  changing  our  spot, 
we  are  conscious  of  the  world  of  spirits,  we  are  alive 
to  the  glories  of  the  unseen  and  eternal  state.  And 
of  this  intermediate  state  —  the  state  of  separation 
between  soul  and  body  —  Jesus  has  the  key.  He 
Himself  went  down  into  this  mysterious  realm,  and 
returned  from  it  a  conqueror,  having  won  the  power 
to  open  it  for  us.     The  ancients  believed  that  the  in- 


LAZARUS.  3  I  7 

termediate  state  was  under  the  sole  sway  of  Pluto,  the 
rival  of  Jupiter  ;  so  that  while  the  upper  world  basked 
in  the  sunshine  of  life,  the  lower  world  was  withdrawn 
from  all  cheering  influences  and  wrapped  in  eternal 
gloom.  It  was  a  world  of  shadows  inhabited  by 
shades.  But  to  the  Christian  there  are  no  rival 
powers  in  the  universe.  One  Lord  forms  the  light 
and  creates  darkness,  and  reigns  in  both  worlds  and 
in  the  passage  between.  The  dark  depths  of  Hades 
are  as  much  open  to  His  eye  and  subject  to  His  con- 
trol as  the  habitations  of  men  on  earth  ;  and  to  pass 
into  the  silent  land  of  death  is  but  to  pass  from  one 
room  to  another  of  the  Father's  many  mansions. 

"  Death  is  another  life.     We  bow  our  heads 
At  going  out,  we  think,  and  enter  straight 
Another  golden  chamber  of  the  King's 
Larger  than  this,  and  lovelier." 

The  loud  voice  of  Jesus  awakes  an  echo  in  the 
spiritual  world,  as  well  as  in  the  reverberating  dark- 
ness of  the  tomb.  For  a  moment  all  is  still  ;  for  a 
moment  the  spectators  wait  ;  and  then  they  hear  a 
sound  within  the  cave.  Their  eyes  are  fixed  upon 
the  low  doorway  in  awe  and  fear.  And  now  the 
Evangelist  records  the  subUmest  event  ever  wit- 
nessed by  human  eyes,  which  must  have  left  an  in- 
delible impression  upon  his  mind.  He  writes  as  if 
the  whole  scene  were  visible  to  him  ;  as  if  he  were 
living  over  again  all  the  incidents  of  the  wonderful 


3l8  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

hour.  A  strange  figure,  muffled  from  head  to  foot, 
appears  in  the  opening  of  the  tomb.  The  dead  man 
in  his  grave-clothes  stands  before  them,  in  the  fresh 
open  air,  under  the  bkie  sky,  restored  to  the  fellow- 
ship of  the  living  world.  Is  it  a  dream  of  the  imag- 
ination, a  delusion  of  the  senses,  excited  by  expecta- 
tion and  hope  }  Will  it  melt  away  like  a  frosty 
figure  on  a  window-pane  before  the  increasing  sun- 
shine, and  leave  the  place  emptier  than  before }  Will 
it  sink  back  again  into  the  tomb,  like  the  fabled 
Eurydice,  when  her  husband,  Orpheus,  bearing  her 
away  in  his  arms  from  the  Infernal  Regions  to  the 
upper  world,  looks  round  with  irresistible  yearning 
to  catch  one  glimpse  of  her  beloved  face,  and  loses 
her  for  ever  .''  No  !  It  is  no  phantom  which  Jesus 
raises,  like  the  ghost  of  Samuel  which  the  witch  of 
Endor  summoned  from  the  dead  to  meet  the  doomed 
and  despairing  king  of  Israel.  It  is  no  vain  spectre 
walking  the  paths  of  upper  air  to  hold  a  brief  inter- 
view with  the  sorrowing  sisters,  and  then  to  vanish, 
as  Protesilaus  in  Wordsworth's  sublime  poem  was 
allovved  for  a  few  hours  to  appear  to  his  wife  Laoda- 
mia,  in  answer  to  her  passionate  supplications,  elud- 
ing her  grasp  while  she  tried  to  embrace  him,  and 
chilling  her  heart  by  his  calm  superiority  to  all  their 
former  earthly  love.  It  is  Lazarus  himself  in  the 
flesh,  with  all  his  familiar  features  and  warm  human 
affections,  to  tarry  with  his  sisters,  if  tradition  be 
true,  for  thirty  years  longer. 


LAZARUS.  319 

Some  have  expressed  astonishment  that,  while 
bound  hand  and  foot,  he  should,  nevertheless,  have 
been  able  to  obey  the  summons  of  Jesus,  and  come 
forth  to  the  light  of  day  ;  and  they  look  upon  this 
as  a  miracle  within  the  miracle.  But  there  is  no 
need  for  exaggerating  the  wonder  in  this  way.  We 
see  the  wise  economy  of  miracles  as  strikingly  dis- 
played in  the  raising  of  Lazarus  as  in  all  the  other 
mighty  works  of  our  Lord.  The  Divine  power  is 
employed  only  to  accomplish  what  human  power 
cannot  do,  and  works  always  on  the  basis  of  human 
power.  It  was  the  custom  among  the  Egyptians  to 
swathe  separately  each  member  of  their  mummies 
with  the  cerements  of  the  grave  ;  and  this  fashion 
was  followed  by  the  Jews,  as  by  most  of  the  Oriental 
nations.  Every  limb  of  the  corpse,  and  even  every 
finger  of  the  hands,  was  wrapped  round  with  its  own 
separate  strip  of  cloth  ;  and  around  the  whole  body 
was  thrown  a  loose  and  flowing  garment.  In  this 
Vv^ay  the  action  of  the  hands  was  hindered,  but  not 
the  motion  of  the  limbs.  Lazarus  could  not  disen- 
tangle himself  from  the  grave-clothes,  but  he  could 
come«forth  from  the  inner  recess  of  the  sepulchre  to 
the  entrance.  The  face  was  veiled  with  the  suda- 
rium,  or  the  Unen  cloth,  which  was  folded  round  the 
forehead  and  extended  down  to  the  breast.  The 
unexpected  appearance  of  such  a  figure  must  have 
greatly  startled  the  spectators  ;  but  small  time  is  left 


320  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

them  to  express  their  astonishment.  No  sooner 
does  the  dead  step  out  into  Hfe  than  the  voice  of 
Jesus  is  again  heard  breaking  the  awful  stillness,  — 
"  Loose  him,  and  let  him  go."  Here  again,  as  in 
the  case  of  the  daughter  of  Jairus,  when  He  com- 
manded the  parents  to  give  her  meat,  Jesus  enters 
into  the  minutest  details  of  His  astonishing  act  of 
power.  He  sees  that  His  friend  is  still  encumbered 
with  the  relics  of  the  grave  ;  and  He  waits  not  till 
others  awake  from  their  shock  of  surprise  to  perceive 
the  clothes  that  bind  and  trouble  the  risen  one. 
With  all  the  promptitude  and  decision  of  love.  He 
orders  the  spectators  to  release  him  from  those  hin- 
drances, that  he  may  be  at  liberty  to  rejoin  his 
friends. 

And  in  this  incident  we  have  a  proof  of  the  per- 
fection of  the  love  of  Jesus  —  that  can  enfold  the 
largest  and  the  smallest  things  in  its  embrace,  as  the 
horizon  comprehends  equally  the  lofty  mountain  and 
the  lowly  wild  flower.  It  is  this  feature  of  the  mir- 
acle that,  in  an  especial  manner,  brings  Jesus  home 
to  our  hearts.  The  mighty  power  of  the  loud  voice 
bursting  open  the  gates  of  death  awes  and  over- 
whelms us,  but  the  still  small  voice,  full  of  tenderness 
and  human  sympathy,  commanding  the  friends  to 
loose  Lazarus  from  the  grave-clothes  and  let  him  go, 
binds  us  to  Him  with  the  bands  of  a  man.  And  so 
it  is  in  all  Christ's  manifestations  of  Himself  to  us. 


LAZARUS.  321 

What  touches  the  heart  and  quickens  the  pulses  of 
love  is  the  contemplation,  not  of  His  grand  displays 
of  power  and  glory,  but  of  the  humble  details  and 
famihar  scenes  of  His  life  —  such  as  His  taking  up 
children  in  His  arms  and  blessing  them.  His  suffer- 
ing the  beloved  disciple  to  lean  upon  His  bosom,  His 
weeping  at  the  grave  of  Lazarus.  It  is  thus  also  in 
the  bounties  of  His  natural  providence.  "  His  lesser 
works  are  those  which  appeal  most  powerfully  to  our 
hearts."  The  heavens  declare  His  glory,  and  the 
firmament  showeth  forth  His  handiwork ;  and  these 
produce  upon  us  a  profound  impression  of  rever- 
ential awe.  But  it  is  when  we  consider  the  grass 
of  the  field,  which  shines  in  the  glow  of  the  sun  to- 
day and  shrinks  in  the  fire  of  the  oven  to-morrow, 
and  yet  is  adorned  with  more  than  the  glory  of 
Solomon  ;  when  we  look  down  to  the  minute,  homely 
things  of  nature,  which  are  little  more  than  visible 
to  the  naked  eye  —  the  moss  on  the  tree,  the  lichen 
on  the  rock,  the  weed  in  the  water  —  and  behold 
the  marvellous  loveliness  and  tenderness  of  hue  and 
form  with  which  they  are  decked,  that  we  feel  most 
the  attraction  of  His  condescending  love,  and  realize 
that  we  have  a  Friend  in  heaven  who  sympathizes 
with  us  in  the  very  humblest  of  our  experiences. 

Christ's  command  to  the  spectators  is  also  a  proof 
of  the  thoroughness  of  His  work.  Had  He  raised 
Lazarus  from  the  dead  and  left  him  bound   by  the 

21 


322  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

grave-clothes,  there  would  have  been  an  element  of 
imperfection  in  the  miracle.  But  he  never  left  any- 
thing that  He  undertook  unfinished.  What  He  be- 
gan He  carried  through  to  perfection.  The  impotent 
man,  whom  He  heals,  He  seeks  out  afterwards  and 
restores  to  spiritual  strength  ;  the  blind  man,  whose 
eyes  He  opens,  He  finds  and  discloses  to  him,  when 
prepared  for  it,  the  wonderful  revelation  of  His  own 
Messiahship  ;  the  woman  whose  inward  trouble  He 
cures  by  the  touch  of  His  garment's  hem,  He  visits 
through  open  confession  with  the  joy  of  His  salva- 
tion ;  and  here  Lazarus,  whom  He  frees  from  the 
power  of  death.  He  frees  also  from  all  its  trammels 
and  symbols.  And  in  this  respect  each  of  His  lesser 
works  is  a  type  of  His  great  work  of  redemption,  re- 
garding which  He  said  on  the  cross,  crying  with  the 
same  loud  voice  as  at  Lazarus'  tomb,  *'  It  is  finished." 
And  as  He  perfected  each  of  His  miracles,  and  all 
His  great  historical  work  on  earth,  so  does  He  per- 
fect spiritually  in  each  human  soul  that  yields  itself 
to  Him  that  which  concerneth  it.  He  will  never  for- 
sake the  work  of  His  hands.  What  He  begins  in  us 
He  will  complete  ;  and  He  who  is  the  Author  will  be 
the  Finisher  of  our  faith.  He  gives  us  first  life,  then 
liberty  ;  frees  us  from  all  internal  hindrances,  that 
we  may  free  ourselves  from  all  external. 

But  there  is  a  deeper  significance  still  in  the  com- 
niand  of  Jesus  to  the  spectators  to  loose  Lazarus  and 


LAZARUS.  323 

let  him  go.  It  indicates  that  human  help  was  needed, 
not  onl)^  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  miracle,  but  also 
to  carry  it  out  and  complete  it.  It  was  not  enough 
that  man  should  lay  the  foundation  for  the  work  of 
Christ,  in.  rolling  away  the  stone  from  the  mouth  of 
the  tomb  ;  but  he  must  also  bring  the  cope-stone  to 
put  upon  the  finished  work  of  Christ,  in  loosing  Laz- 
arus from  the  grave-clothes  that  bound  and  hampered 
him.  Human  help  must  begin  and  carry  to  its  very 
end  the  help  of  God.  Were  it  not  for  the  purpose  of 
teaching  us  this  most  important  lesson,  we  do  not 
see  any  meaning  in  the  command  of  Christ.  It  would 
otherwise  seem  superfluous  and  ostentatious.  To 
Him  who  broke  the  bands  of  death,  the  loosing  of 
the  grave-clothes  would  have  involved  no  additional 
expenditure  of  Divine  power.  He  could  by  a  wish,  a 
word,  as  easily  have  deliv^ered  Lazarus  from  the  se- 
pulchral wrappings  without  any  human  aid,  as  He  de- 
livered the  three  Hebrew  confessors  from  the  fetters 
that  bound  them  when  they  were  thrown  into  the 
fiery  furnace,  or  rescued  Peter  from  the  chains  that 
confined  him  in  the  innermost  prison  at  Jerusalem. 
But  He  called  in  the  assistance  of  the  spectators  to 
do  what  His  Divine  power  was  not  needed  to  do,  and 
what  their  human  aid  could  well  accomplish,  to  show 
to  us  that  it  is  by  human  help,  from  the  beghming  to 
the  end,  that  He  carries  on  all  His  redemptive  work, 
from   its  mightiest  processes  down  to   its  humblest 


324  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

details.  And  it  is  a  lesson  which,  as  I  have  already 
said,  we  require  very  much  to  learn,  and  very  specially 
in  the  things  that  concern  our  everlasting  peace.  We 
are  apt  to  look  at  our  deliverance  as  exclusively  God's 
work,  and  therefore  to  devolve  all  upon  Him,  while 
we  ourselves  are  altogether  passive,  standing  still  to 
see  the  salvation  of  God.  But,  as  the  spectators 
had  to  help  Jesus,  not  only  to  roll  away  the  stone 
from  the  grave  of  the  dead,  but  also  to  loose  the 
grave-clothes  from  the  form  of  the  living,  so  we 
have  to  help  God  in  carrying  out  and  completing 
to  the  very  end,  by  our  own  efforts,  the  mighty  mir- 
acle of  restoration  from  spiritual  death  to  eternal 
life.  His  redemption  just  consists  in  the  restoration 
of  our  human  freedom,  which  sin  had  destroyed. 
We  can  use  specially  regarding  it  Browning's  beau- 
tiful words  :  — 

"  God,  whose  pleasure  brought 
Man  into  being,  stands  away. 
As  it  were,  an  hand-breadth  off,  to  give 
Room  for  the  newly-made  to  live. 
And  look  at  him  from  a  place  apart, 
And  use  his  gifts  of  brain  and  heart." 

We,  too,  give  thanks,  in  the  matter  of  our  redemp- 
tion, like  Jesus  Himself,  that  God  has  heard  our 
unconscious  moan  in  our  state  of  sin  and  misery, 
and  heard  the  intercessory  prayer  of  our  Redeemer. 
And  all  that  we  have  now  to  do,  in  the  Divine  life  of 


LAZARUS.  325 

which  we  are  made  partakers,  is  to  roll  away  a  stone 
from  a  grave  that  has  already  lost  its  victim,  and  to 
loose  the  cerements  of  death  from  a  life  that  has 
already  risen.  This  leaves,  however,  untouched  the 
great  mystery  underlying  and  overarching  us  every- 
where, "  how  the  will  of  God  can  so  withdraw  from 
ours  as  to  leave  us  any  action  of  our  own,  and  how  it 
can  mingle  with  ours  without  overwhelming  it." 

What  a  moment  of  astonishment  and  delight  must 
that  have  been  to  the  sisters,  as  well  as  to  the  brother 
himself,  when    the   grave-clothes  were  all   removed, 
and  the  linen  napkin  taken  away  from  the  face,  re- 
vealing  the   well-known  features,  pale   and   solemn 
from  the  shadows  of  the  grave  and  the  light  of  an- 
other world  ?     St.  John  was  there  and  saw  it  all,  but 
a   holy   reticence    keeps    him   from    describing    the 
scene.     The  walk  back  from  the  tomb  to  the  village, 
the  surprise  and  awe  of  the  neighbors,  the  wonder 
and  gratitude  of  Mary,  Martha,  and  Lazarus,  as  they 
took  up  together  again  the  thread  of  the  old  familiar 
life  that  had  been  so  sadly  broken  and  so  wonderfully 
reunited,  and  adapted  themselves  once  more  to  the 
business  and  intercourse  of  earth  ;  these  are  thino;s 
upon  which  our  imagination  loves  to  linger,  but  in 
regard  to  which    the    Evangelist    holds   a  profound 
silence.     We  should  have  hked  to  know  what  Laz- 
arus had  passed  through  during  his  four  days'  sleep 
in  the  tomb.     But  that  secret  the  Bible  will  not  dis- 


326  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE   DEAD. 

close.  Unlike  the  legends  and  myths  that  record 
the  imaginary  adventures  of  persons  said  to  have 
returned  from  the  unseen  world,  the  Bible  reso- 
lutely and  systematically  refrains  from  recording  the 
experiences  of  those  who  have  crossed  the  fatal  line 
and  come  back  to  light  and  life.  But  men  have  not 
been  content  to  leave  inviolate  this  inscrutable  mys- 
tery of  the  Bible  ;  they  have  superadded  glosses  of 
their  own.  There  was  a  tradition  very  prevalent  and 
widely  believed  in  the  early  Christian  Church,  that 
the  first  question  which  Lazarus  asked  when  he  re- 
turned to  life  was,  if  he  should  die  again  ;  and  on 
being  told  that  he  was  still  subject  to  the  common 
doom  of  all  men,  he  was  never  afterwards  seen  to 
smile.  But,  in  the  beautiful  words  of  the  poet,  we 
can  only  say  :  — 

"  When  Lazarus  left  his  charnel-cave, 
And  home  to  Mary's  house  returned, 
Was  this  demanded  —  if  he  yearned 
To  hear  her  weeping  by  his  grave  ? 

"  *  Where  wert  thou,  brother,  those  four  days  ?' 
There  lives  no  record  of  reply, 
Which,  telling  what  it  is  to  die, 
Had  surely  added  praise  to  praise. 

"  From  every  house  the  neighbors  met. 

The  streets  were  filled  with  joyful  sound, 
A  solemn  gladness  even  crowned 
The  purple  brows  of  Olivet. 


LAZARUS.  327 

"Behold  a  man  raised  up  b}-  Christ  ! 
The  rest  remaineth  unrevealed  ; 
He  told  it  not,  or  something  sealed 
The  lips  of  that  Evangelist." 

And  we  ought,  indeed,  to  be  thankful  for  this  silence. 
We  have  already,  in  the  Bible,  revelations  of  the 
mysteries  of  the  unseen  world,  clothed  in  images  de- 
rived from  the  most  glorious  things  of  earth;  and 
what  havoc  have  men  made  of  these  in  their  attempts 
to  interpret  them  !  How  low,  and  prosaic,  and  alto- 
gether unworthy  are  the  conceptions  to  which  they 
give  rise  in  the  minds  of  very  many  !  A  similar  fate, 
we  may  be  sure,  would  have  overtaken  any  effort 
made  by  the  restored  dead  to  record  their  experi- 
ences in  the  poor  vain  forms  of  time  and  sense. 
And,  therefore,  it  is  well  that  the  attempt  has  not 
been  made ;  in  any  case  it  would  have  obstructed  the 
development  of  our  Christian  character,  by  placing 
before  us  a  hope  seen  which  is  not  hope,  and  cheat- 
ing our  faith  by  the  mirage  of  fancied  sight.  But 
perhaps,  after  all,  there  was  nothing  to  reveal.  It  has 
been  suggested  that  memory  is  essentially  dependent 
on  impressions  made  upon  the  brain  ;  and  that,  with- 
out those  impressions  to  refer  to,  ^11  our  past  history 
would  present  to  us  a  universal  blank.  If  this  be 
true,  —  and  modern  science  confirms  it,  —  then  the 
spirit  in  its  disembodied  state,  however  conscious 
and  active,  has  no  organ  to  record    its  impressions 


328  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

and  experiences.  It  cannot  communicate  with,  or 
make  itself  visible  to  us  ;  it  has  no  idea  of  time  or 
succes'sive  existence,  as  we  have  through  the  limita- 
tions and  changes  of  our  bodies,  and,  consequently,  a 
thousand  years  are  to  it,  as  to  the  Great  Spirit  Him- 
self, but  as  one  day,  and  the  long  interval  between 
death  and  the  resurrection  is  but  like  a  single  mo- 
ment of  sleep,  during  which  a  man  has  dreamt  out  a 
whole  life-time  of  the  most  varied  adventures.  These 
considerations  suggest  the  thought  that  "  when  the 
spirit  of  Lazarus  returned  to  its  forsaken  companion, 
and  resumed  that  compound  existence  in  which  its 
faculties  could  work  only  by  bodily  organs,  it  would 
find  no  marks  upon  the  brain  of  what  passed  in  the 
intermediate  state  ; "  and  therefore  the  interval  of 
four  days  of  death  would  seem  to  him  like  a  mo- 
ment's unconsciousness,  in  which  nothing  that  hap- 
pened was  remembered,  and  through  which  the  im- 
pressions made  upon  the  body  before  death  alone 
survived. 

But  though  St.  John  does  not  describe  the  out- 
ward immediate  effects  of  the  miracle,  he  discloses 
explicitly  or  incidentally  the  deeper  and  more  abid- 
ing effects  which  it  produced  upon  all  who  were  con- 
cerned in  it.  We  see  throughout  the  narrative  that 
the  discipline  of  Christ's  words  and  actions  was  sep- 
arating the  spectators  into  two  distinct  classes,  ac- 
cording to  their  spiritual  discernment  or  obtuseness  ; 


LAZARUS.  329 

just  as  the  Cross  of  Christ  separated  the  two  thieves 
who  were  crucified  with  Him  into  penitent  and  im- 
penitent ;  just  as  all  His  work  divides  mankind  into 
two  classes,  saved  or  unsaved.  All  Divine  operations 
act  in  the  way  of  tests  and  judgments,  trying  the 
states  of  men.  Some  of  the  spectators  saw  in  the 
tears  of  Jesus  the  proofs  of  His  great  love  to  Lazarus  ; 
while  others  saw  in  them  only  the  evidences  of  His 
weakness  and  selfishness.  And  the  effect  of  the  final 
act  of  the  miracle  upon  each  class  was  in  accordance 
with  these  differences  of  moral  quality.  To  the  one 
class,  embracing  the  larger  number,  the  occurrence 
was  so  overpowering  that  they  at  once  believed  on 
the  Saviour  ;  while  the  unbelief  and  hostility  of  the 
other,  and  smaller  class,  were  only  deepened  and  in- 
tensified. The  one  class  enrolled  themselves  among 
the  followers  of  Jesus,  awed  and  solemnized  by  a  sense 
of  eternal  things  ;  the  others,  hardened  in  their  ha- 
tred, unimpressed  by  the  marvellous  display  of  Jesus' 
power  which  they  had  witnessed,  went  straight  to 
the  authorities  to  denounce  Him,  and  concoct  with 
them  the  means  for  His  destruction.  We  must  con- 
clude, however,  that  the  effect  in  both  cases,  though 
in  different  degrees,  was  unsatisfactory  ;  for  even 
those  who  believed  soon  abandoned  Him,  and  were 
among  the  fickle  multitude  who  cried  "  Hosanna  to 
the  Highest,"  one  day,  and  "  Away  with  Him,'' 
"  Crucify  Him,"  the  next.     Their  faith  consisted,  not 


330  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

in  a  spiritual  influence  produced  upon  their  minds  by 
the  Redeemer's  personal  character,  but  in  a  mere 
transient  excitement  caused  by  the  wonder  of  the 
miracle. 

And  this  result  shows  to  us  of  how  little  value  are 
miracles  in  determining  or  influencing  the  spiritual 
life.  The  Jews  of  our  Saviour's  time  had  a  childish 
craving  for  sensible  signs,  and  many  mighty  works 
were  done  before  them  ;  but  these  miracles  produced 
but  a  passing  impression  upon  them,  and  did  not  at 
all  touch  their  conscience  and  heart.  How,  indeed, 
could  an  outward  sign,  however  extraordinary,  con- 
vince those  who  were  blind  to  the  wonder  of  love  and 
wisdom,  of  holiness  and  meek  self-sacrificing  devo- 
tion, which,  greater  than  any  miracle,  was  exhibited 
before  their  eyes  in  the  daily  life  of  Jesus  }  They 
sought  to  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  by  the 
gate  of  the  senses,  and  not  by  the  gate  of  the  spirit  ; 
and  they  failed  accordingly.  We,  too,  are  apt  to 
fancy  that  miracles  would  produce  a  deeper  and  more 
satisfying  faith  than  the  common  means  of  grace 
which  we  enjoy.  We  have  an  instinctive  longing  for 
some  iiattiral  outward  approach  to  God.  But  that 
knowledge  of  God  by  attestations  which  mere  exter- 
nal signs  can  give,  is  only  the  knowledge  of  His 
power,  not  the  knowledge  of  Himself  ;  not  the  knowl- 
edge which  is  eternal  life  ;  and  assuredly,  if  we  can- 
not come  near  to  God   by  that  moral   and  spiritual 


LAZARUS.  331 

process  which  assimilates  us  to  His  nature,  we  can- 
not ho^De  to  do  so  by  the  path  of  wonders.  "  If  we 
hear  not  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will  we 
be  persuaded  though  one  rose  from  the  dead  ;  "  and 
what  a  commentary  upon  the  truth  of  these  words 
was  the  hardening  effect  produced  upon  the  specta- 
tors by  the  most  stupendous  of  all  Christ's  miracles  ! 
The  effect  of  the  miracle  as  regards  Christ  Him- 
self was,  as  I  have  previously  said,  to  accelerate  His 
doom.  It  stirred  up  the  Sanhedrim  to  take  immedi- 
ate steps  to  destroy  Him  ;  for  they  feared  lest  the 
number  of  His  adherents  might  prodigiously  increase, 
and  thus  undermine  their  own  authority,  as  well  as 
provoke  a  collision  with  the  Roman  power,  which 
would  end  in  national  disaster.  To  avoid  this  con- 
spiracy, Jesus  departed  to  the  seclusion  of  the  obscure 
town  of  Ephraim,  near  the  wilderness  of  Judaea,  until 
the  Passover  —  until  His  appointed  hour  should 
come.  The  restoration  of  Lazarus  to  the  bosom  of 
his  family  was  the  cause  of  Jesus'  banishment ;  and 
the  raising  of  Lazarus  to  life  had  the  most  direct 
effect  in  bringing  about  the  death  of  Jesus.  Thus  all 
His  acts  were  anticipations  and  types  of  the  great 
final  sacrifice  of  the  Cross.  It  was  through  loss  to 
Himself  that  all  His  generous  acts  were  done  ;  and 
now  it  is  by  His  poverty  that  we  are  enriched,  by 
His  stripes  that  we  are  healed,  by  His  sorrow  that 
we  are  made  joyful,  and  by  His  death  that  we  have 
eternal  life. 


332  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

Upon  Lazarus,  thus  marvellously  brought  back 
from  the  tomb,  the  effect  of  the  mighty  miracle  is 
not  recorded.  But  one  further  authentic  notice  of 
him  is  given  ere  the  curtain  falls  upon  his  history. 
We  find  him  some  days  afterwards  sitting  among  the 
guests  at  the  supper  in  Bethany ;  which,  as  Trench 
suggests,  like  the  command  to  give  meat  to  the  re- 
vived daughter  of  Jairus  and  our  Lord's  own  partici- 
pation of  food  after  His  resurrection,  was  a  proof  that 
his  restoration  was  real  and  not  phantasmal.  That 
banquet  was  perhaps  a  sacramental  supper,  signaliz- 
ing the  renunciation  of  former  habits  and  a  consecra- 
tion to  a  new  and  higher  life.  It  was  a  realization  of 
the  Divine  promise,  — "  Behold  I  stand  at  the  door 
and  knock  ;  if  any  man  hear  my  voice,  and  open  the 
door,  I  will  come  in  to  him,  and  sup  with  him,  and  he 
with  me."  Lazarus  had  been  called  from  the  tomb 
by  the  voice  of  Jesus  ;  he  had  heard  that  voice,  and 
the  door  of  the  tomb  was  opened  ;  and  now  the  Giver 
and  the  receiver  of  life  feasted  together.  We  cannot 
believe  that  such  a  wonderful  crisis  in  the  history  of 
Lazarus  could  have  left  his  heart  and  life  unaffected. 
The  act  of  death  must  have  precipitated  much  of  the 
sinful  elements  of  his  life  ;  and,  defecated  from  these, 
"  his  inward  resurrection  into  a  purer  and  nobler  life 
must  have  been  parallel  with  his  outward  resurrection 
to  his  ordinary  life."  If  he  was  the  young  ruler  whom 
Jesus  loved,  then  the  extraordinary  disci j.line  of  his 


LAZARUS.  333 

illness,  death,  and  restoration  must  have  been  pecul- 
iarly adapted  to  wean  his  affections  from  the  things 
of  the  world  ;  and,  knowing  now  the  true  worth  and 
use  of  riches,  nothing  would  remain  to  prevent  his 
following  the  Lord,  who  did  such  great  things  for 
him,  with  a  heavenly  faith  supremely,  and  with  a 
pure  heart  fervently.  He  shared,  perhaps,  as  Dr. 
Plumptre  has  suggested,  in  our  Saviour's  triumphal 
march  from  Bethany  to  Jerusalem,  which  the  miracle 
wrought  upon  himself  had  directly  caused,  and  in  the 
Pentecostal  gifts  poured  down  upon  the  infant  Chris- 
tian Church  ;  and  then,  if  not  before,  the  command, 
"  Sell  all  that  thou  hast  and  give  to  the  poor,  and 
come  follow  me,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in 
heaven,"  was  obeyed  by  him  as  by  all  the  other  con- 
verts, whose  hearts  were  exhilarated  and  lifted  above 
all  selfishness  by  the  new  wine  of  the  kingdom.  He 
needed  the  extraordinary  discipline  to  which  he  had 
been  subjected,  not  only  for  his  purification,  but  for 
his  comfort  ;  for  he  had  to  pass  through  scenes  of 
despair  and  death,  which  tested  faith  as  gold  is  tried 
by  the  fire.  His  last  years  were  doubtless  spent  amid 
great  tribulations,  such  as  were  not  from  the  begin- 
ning of  the  world  to  that  time  —  no,  nor  ever  shall 
be  again.  The  sorrow  that  his  sisters  endured  for 
his  sake,  he  had  to  endure  in  keener  form  for  the 
sake  of  his  Lord  when  he  saw  Him  nailed  to  the 
accursed  tree,  and  numbered  among  transgressors  ; 


334  THREE   RAISINGS  FROM  THE  DEAD. 

and  the  despondency  which  came  over  them  when 
their  Lord  was  absent  in  their  time  of  sore  need, 
weighed  heavily  upon  himself  when  the  hope  of  the 
restoration  of  the  kingdom  to  Israel  by  Jesus,  which 
he  cherished,  had  gone  out,  as  it  seemed,  forever  in 
the  tomb  of  Joseph.  And  how  dreadful  must  have 
been  his  sufferings  when  he  beheld  the  Mount  of 
Olives,  the  scenes  around  his  quiet  home,  trampled 
under  foot  of  the  Roman  army,  and  the  temple  of 
Jerusalem  perishing  amid  flames  and  blood.  His 
restoration  to  life  was  not  indeed  an  unmixed  good  ; 
but,  to  whatever  trials  it  led,  it  had  prepared  the  way 
of  his  soul  for  enduring  and  triumphing  over  them. 
And  when  at  length  he  came  to  die  the  second  time 
the  memory  of  all  that  his  first  death  had  revealed 
and  accomplished  must  have  made  welcome  to  him 
the  final  change  which  should  usher  him  into  the 
higher  home,  where  violence  is  no  more  heard,  nor 
wasting  and  destruction  seen,  whose  walls  are  Salva- 
tion and  gates  Praise,  and  enabled  him  to  sing  the 
triumphal  swan-song  of  the  Apostle,  "O  Death,  where 
is  thy  sting  ?     O  Grave,  where  is  thy  victory  .-* " 

As  regards  the  effect  produced  by  the  miracle 
upon  the  sisters,  we  are  not  left  to  conjecture  ;  there 
are  hints  given  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  form  a  toler- 
ably correct  idea  of  it.  At  the  memorable  supper 
given  in  honor  of  Jesus  in  the  quiet  home  of  Bethany, 
in  which   life   had   resumed   its  former  course  —  a 


LAZARUS.  335 

family  feast  which  we  may  regard  as  typical  of  .the 
resurrection  communion,  when  we  shall  sit  down  in 
the  kingdom  of  heaven  with  those  whom  we  loved 
and  lost,  and  feast  with  them  at  a  table  that  shall 
never  more  be  withdrawn,  and  from  which  the  guests 
shall  go  no  more  out  —  we  see  abundant  proofs  of 
the  ennobling  influence  produced  by  the  discipline  of 
sorrow  and  joy  through  which  they  had  passed.  Be- 
fore this  Mary  had  been  passive  and  contemplative  ; 
"  her  eyes  were  homes  of  silent  prayer  ;  "  she  had 
been  satisfied  with  receiving  rather  than  giving,  with 
merely  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus  in  lowliest  rever- 
ence, and  drinking  in  with  child-like  trustfulness  His 
words  of  eternal  life.  But  now  the  deep  love  of  her 
heart,  stirred  up  by  her  brother's  wonderful  restora- 
tion, longs  for  self-manifestation.  She  is  no  longer 
content  with  thoughtful  meditation.  The  cherished 
alabaster  box  is  brought  forth  and  broken,  and  all  its 
precious  spikenard  poured  out  upon  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
until  the  room  is  filled  with  the  odor  of  the  oint- 
ment. In  a  transport  of  adoring  gratitude,  she  wipes 
His  feet  with  the  hair  of  her  head.  She  puts  her 
woman's  glory  under  His  feet.  She  loves  much,  and 
she  gives  much  to  show  it.  And  Jesus  gives  to  her 
act  of  true  sacrifice  a  far  wider  and  grander  meaning 
than  she  herself  knows.  She  puts  all  the  force  of 
her  love  into  the  symbol  ;  and  the  Love  that  passeth 
knowledge   interprets   it  beyond  human  conceptioa 


336        rriKEE  raisings  from  the  dead. 

The  little  arc  proves  to  Him  the  perfect  circle.  The 
temporary  act,  like  everything  done  to  and  for  Him 
who  is  from  everlasting  to  everlasting,  gains  some- 
thing of  His  own  enduring  and  infinite  worth.  He 
sees  in  it  the  embalming  of  the  victim  of  death,  and 
the  anointing  of  the  conqueror  of  death.  It  speaks 
to  Him  of  another  sacrifice  more  lavish,  more  uncal- 
culating  still,  which  stands  forth  as  the  very  type  of 
Divine  prodigality  —  the  gift  of  the  only  Begotten 
Son  ;  and  it  wins  from  Him  that  highest  meed  of 
praise,  "  Wheresoever  the  Gospel  shall  be  preached 
in  the  whole  world,  there  shall  also  this  that  this 
woman  hath  done  be  told  for  a  memorial  of  her." 
Nor  is  the  change  in  Martha  less  remarkable.  She 
is  present  at  the  supper  too,  serving  at  the  table,  and 
ministering  to  the  comfort  of  the  guests  ;  but  she 
is  no  longer  jealous  and  intolerant,  burdensome  to 
others  through  cumbering  herself  with  much  serving 
and  carefulness  about  many  things.  "  Her  activity 
has  been  calmed  by  trust  ;  "  her  divided  heart  has 
been  united  by  the  choice  of  "  the  one  thing  need- 
ful." The  fulfilment  of  her  simple  household  duties, 
done  for  Christ,  is  translated  by  Him  into  a  heavenly 
ministry.  And  she  who,  when  first  introduced  to  us, 
said  to  Jesus,  "  Lord,  dost  thou  not  care  that  my 
sister  has  left  me  to  serve  alone  }  bid  her  therefore 
that  she  help  me,"  utters  not  even  a  whisper  of  re- 
monstrance when  other  rough  unsympathetic  voices 


LAZARUS.  337 

are  raised  in  condemnation  of  her  sister's  extrava- 
gance. The  spiritual  education  of  the  two  sisters, 
begun  in  hours  of  joy  with  Jesus,  was  completed  in 
their  hours  of  sorrow.  Each  receives  the  finishing 
touch,  from  that  stern  but  wise  and  gracious  teacher, 
that  was  needed  to  perfect  her  character.  The  love 
that  was  dreamy  and  unpractical  manifests  itself  in 
energetic  and  noble  action  ;  and  the  piety  that  was 
over-careful  about  worldly  things,  and  over-active 
about  domestic  duties,  becomes  thoughtful  and 
heavenly.  We  may  say  of  both,  in  the  words  of  the 
poet : — 

"  Thrice  blest  whose  lives  are  faithful  prayers, 
Whose  loves  in  higher  love  endure ; 
What  souls  possess  themselves  so  pure, 
Or  is  there  blessedness  like  theirs." 

And  what  effect  ought  the  great  miracle  to  have 
upon  us,  for  we  too  are  witnesses  of  it,  and  for  our 
sakes  also  it  was  wrought }  It  is  as  useful  to  us  in 
the  record  as  it  was  to  the  spectators  in  the  doing. 
Its  temporary  effect  has  been  long  over  for  ever,  but 
its  permanent  effect  upon  the  souls  of  men  may  still 
be  felt  and  seen.  It  is  to  us  a  sign,  significant  of 
something  interior  to,  and  higher  than,  the  bare 
physical  performance.  It  was  the  custom  among  the 
wealthy  members  of  the  early  Christian  Church  in 
the  East  to  have  a  picture  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus 
woven  upon  their  outer  garments,  in  order  that,  like 


338  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD. 

the   Pharisees,  who  made  broad    their   phylacteries, 
they  might  be  considered  pious  by  men,  and  be  ap- 
proved of  by  God.     But  not  upon  our  garments,  but 
upon  our  hearts,  should  we  bear  the  inimitable  record 
of  this  most  gracious  and  wonderful  work.     And  so 
cherished,  so  woven  into  the  very  texture  of  our  nat- 
ure and  life,  it  will  help  to  make  us  truly  pious  and 
blessed.     In    our   hours  of   despair   of   ourselves,  it 
will  teach  us  that  He  who  raised  Lazarus  frcm  the 
grave,  where  he  had  lain  four  days,  can  quicken  all 
who  have  lain  so  long  in  the  grave  of  sin,  and  been 
bound  so  fast  by  habits  of  evil  that  they  seem  almost 
incapable  of   renewal,  and  translate    them  into    the 
glorious  liberty  of  the  sons  of  God.     In  our  hours 
of  sorrow  and  loneliness,  because  of  bereavement,  it 
will  teach  us  how  deeply  our  Lord  sympathizes  with 
those  passionate   human  griefs  of  which  He  seems 
to  us  so  unmindful  ;  and  that  it  is  not  ignorance,  or 
absence,  or  lack  of  love  on   His  part,  that  has  per- 
mitted our  beloved  ones  to  die,  but  that  the  glory  of 
God  in  our  own   higher  good    might   be   promoted. 
And  in  our  hours  of  doubt  and  fear,  when  looking 
forward  to  our  future  fate,  it  will  speak  to  us  of  the 
resurrection  of  the  body  at  the  last  day  ;  it  will  be 
a  specimen  of  that  new  genesis  under  which  there 
shall  be  no  more  death,  and  all  the  old  things  of  the 
curse  shall  be  done  away  with,  and  eternal  life  shall 
be  the  perfect  exercise  of  all  our  true  and  pure  hu- 
man affections  for  evermore. 


LAZARUS.  339 

But,  great  and  blessed  as  it  is,  not  upon  the  resur- 
rection of  Lazarus  alone,  or  chiefly,  do  our  hopes 
depend.  God  has  given  to  us  some  better  thing. 
We  have  the  surpassing  wonder  of  Christ's  own  res- 
urrection from  the  grave  —  the  culminating  point  of 
the  whole  miracle-structure  of  the  Divine  history  of 
revelation — the  sum  of  the  Gospel.  And  His  res- 
urrection is  the  pledge  and  pattern  of  ours.  The 
resurrection  of  Lazarus  was  a  resurrection  within 
the  limits  of  this  frail  mortal  existence.  It  was  a 
restoration  to  the  old  earthly  life,  with  all  its  wants 
and  woes,  its  limitations  and  its  inevitable  termina- 
tion ;  but  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  is  the  revelation 
of  a  new  life,  wherein  all  that  belonged  only  to  this 
rudimental  life  shall  be  dropped,  as  the  chrysalis 
drops  its  exuviae  in  developing  its  wings,  but  retain- 
ing for  ever  all  faculties  and  functions  essentially  hu- 
man. It  is  not  an  extension  of  the  weary,  sorrowful 
existence  with  which  we  are  already  acquainted,  for 
in  that  case  it  would  be  more  a  bane  than  a  benefit ; 
but  the  manifestation  of  an  existence  free  from  all 
the  evils  of  this  life,  strengthened  and  enlarged  to 
walk  with  the  angels  the  great  paths  of  immortality, 
and  to  bear  unburdened  the  "far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory."  It  issues  not,  as  in 
the  case  of  Lazarus,  in  a  second  death,  but  in  ascen- 
sion into  the  deathless  mansions  of  the  Father's 
home.     And,  in  the  faith  of  this  glorious  resurrec- 


340  THREE  RAISINGS  FROM   THE  DEAD, 

tion,  we  can  lie  down  and  take  the  last  long  sleep  in 
the  dust  of  the  earth,  in  the  sure  and  certain  hope, 
that,  if  the  Spirit  of  Him  that  raised  up  Jesus  from 
the  dead  dwell  in  us,  He  that  raised  up  Christ  from 
the  dead  shall  also  quicken  our  mortal  bodies  by  His 
Spirit  that  dwelleth  in  us.  The  work  of  regenera- 
ation  begun  in  the  soul,  where  the  work  of  death 
began,  shall  be  completed  in  the  resurrection  and 
final  redemption  of  the  body.  For  that  crowning 
wonder  of  creative  power  and  love  we  wait  in  hope, 
trusting  in  Him  who  is  the  Light  of  both  worlds, 
and  knowing,  amid  all  our  sorrows  and  bereave- 
ments, that  — 

"  The  song  of  woe 
Is,  after  all,  an  earthly  song." 


THE   END. 


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